


the world beneath the well

by viktuuriousred



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 1700s, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Forced Marriage, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Mpreg, Period Typical Attitudes, Suicide Attempt, all the bad things happen in the past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktuuriousred/pseuds/viktuuriousred
Summary: The year is 1719, and Yuuri (Temperance) Wilson, between his spoiled, hateful children, abusive husband, bitter in-laws who want to chase him out of his own home— and his dreams that never escape beyond the pages of his hidden journal, leads a life filled with crushed dreams and hopelessness.While attempting to end his life by throwing himself down a nearby wishing well, Yuuri is transported to a whole new world— the twenty-first century in the now- United States of America. In the year 2019, he can build a life for himself, he finds love through a history professor at Salem State University, he can start anew.But for every day he spends in 2019, his life in 1719 continues to change. His family's suspicions grow, as does the violence against him and accusations of witchcraft. Worst of all, the future begins to change because of his actions. Yuuri will have to choose between the love and life he finds in 2019, and doing what's right by living on his proper timeline in the past.





	1. October 10th, 1719

**Author's Note:**

> advisory: please read the tags and archive warnings! :)

They told him it’d be a good idea to marry a white man. That was, of course, under the impression he’d remain in Japan. Not that the white man, John Wilson, would insist on returning to England with their son, and three years later, to America. But it was too late to go back on the arrangement by that point. Yuuri was not allowed to say goodbye to his parents.

Yuuri was fifteen when he was wedded to a man double his age. Now, at twenty-three, he is trapped in a hopeless situation, and a loveless marriage.

John Wilson made him conceive a child on their wedding night. And through the months of being terrified in an unfamiliar country where he barely spoke the language, he also felt a child growing within him for the first time. That child is seven now, and Yuuri remembers well his husband’s disappointment at their gender. He wanted sons, only sons.

Yuuri did not want another child, either, but bore seven more— only two surviving infancy, over the next seven years. Seven years of hell…

He felt like a bad person for not loving his family. But he couldn't. Each child conceived in rape, each one becoming more disrespectful than the last. His children, Charity, John, and Lydia, aged seven, four, and three, respectively, made his life a living hell. Throwing tantrums, fighting with each other, hitting _him_ , they did not love him either. They preferred their aunt— John’s sister-in-law, the widow that lived with John’s parents down the road. Yuuri wondered why his own children had always hated him so, why everyone in Salem seemed to hate him as well. He did not understand that they hated him because of his race. How they were all thankful his children favored their father’s features.

He doesn’t know what the grandparents whisper to his daughters, the rumors that have always swirled about him being a witch because of the strange traditions he upkeeps from his home country.

That, and he does socialize with a strange woman who everyone suspects is a witch, too. John knows it’s only a matter of time before Yuuri is caught in the act. The witch trials that went on some decades before just might make a reappearance soon enough, all because of his strange husband.

*

_October 10th, 1719_

 

In the morning, Yuuri wakes beside his husband, who seems annoyed at him even in his sleep. His children, all huddled together, sleep on the trundle below. If only they could get along this well when they were awake.He slips out of bed as quietly as he can and sets out for his morning walk to visit his friend before the rest of the village wakes up and sees him. 

He ties on his cap and braves the cold, October air to make the two mile walk to Ms. Okukawa's home in the forest.

“What’s this word, Yuuri?” Minako sips her tea as she oversees Yuuri’s morning lesson in reading and writing. He is progressing quickly.

“That’s, ah… _melancholy_ .”  
  
“Use it in a sentence.” She instructs.

He purses his lips. “The spirit in Salem is often melancholy. The weather is melancholy, the people are melancholy, even the plants and nature itself is melancholy here.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles at him. “Well done. How is your poetry coming along?”

“‘Tis well. Though it is difficult to work on it out of my children and John’s sight. They seem to always be watching.”

“Ah… that’s dreadful.” Any day now, once she summons a bit of courage, she will reveal herself and give Yuuri a spell to escape his relationship. She's been a friend of the poor boy ever since he first came to America. She thinks that without her companionship, he would not be here today. He is often desolate, and it takes great effort to lift his mood.

“But today, John will be at his parents’ home with Charity. Once the younger two fall asleep, I shall…”

“I wish you had more freedom to write. Your works are impressive.”

“Perhaps it is useless for me to endeavor in such things.”

“Never, Yuuri.” Minako is the only one who refers to him by his own name, save for his husband when he is angry with him. So I suppose it is fair to say that Minako is the only one who uses it nicely.

Before coming to America, Yuuri was forced to be baptized as “Temperance”, an old name that John said would fit the person Yuuri needed to be. From that day forward, as he was now a Christian, he was told to answer only to Temperance. He loathed it and often complained of how ugly it sounded. It seemed like just another chance for John to ridicule him.

Yuuri glances out at the sunlight starting to peek through the trees in the thick forest and sets down his manuscript. "I'd better return home before John wakes."

.

“Temperance!” Goody **1**  Wilson, Yuuri’s mother-in-law, catches him before he can sneak back into his cabin, on the dirt road that many called home in this small village. He just wished that he lived further away from his in-laws so that they would not pester him as often as they did.

“Yes?” Yuuri puts his hands behind his back to hide his journal. "Good morning..."

“Why are you out so early, wandering alone?” As if Goody Wilson hadn't been doing the same thing, wandering this street at the crack of dawn, causing trouble for him...

“Ah… don’t fret, Goody Wilson.” He chuckles. “Nothing of importance.”

“John has been looking for you, Temperance! He woke up half the village in search of you! Now, where have you been!?”  
  
Yuuri pales. “I will hurry home, then!”

He makes it to the front of his cottage before John spots him, and strikes him in front of all the nosy neighbors. He scolds him, saying, “Every time I tell you the same thing! You are not permitted to leave this home without my explicit permission, damn you!”

Yuuri’s cheek stung almost as much as the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he hurried into the house, knowing well that he would be the talk of the village for the rest of the year, at least. It was mortifying.

To make matters worse, his sister-in-law, Mem, is stirring breakfast by the fire. And his own daughter, Charity, is seated beside her aunt, nuzzling her affectionately. John isn’t done. “I could have you burned at the stake, you lying—”  
  
“I went on a walk!” He talks back to his husband, stooping by the bed to straighten the sheets. It is then that he’s struck again. Because he’s being punished, no matter what he did, if it was right or wrong. In front of everyone, it didn’t matter. It never did. The younger two children are crying, though, probably because they don’t like the noise. They don't cry for him. This happens often. Yuuri runs away often, but is always brought back quickly. Always put back in his cage.

Yuuri’s punishment lasts the rest of the day. His lips are covered so he cannot speak, and he is left in the storage loft to “think about what he did” (talking back to his husband). And Mem plays housewife. Yuuri watches with seething jealousy at how well behaved his children are with their aunt, when they treat him so terribly. How affectionate John is with her, for some peculiar reason. Had he been an outsider, he'd assume that Mem was his wife. It makes him think of how things might be better if he wasn’t here anymore, if he was to end his life. 

.

To Yuuri's dread, Mem took the children to their grandparents' that night, leaving Yuuri alone with John. No matter how angry John got with him, he always wanted to have intercourse when the children weren't around, because he wanted more sons, always, always....

John pushes Yuuri's face against his pillow till he can hardly breathe and continues his painful thrusts, whispering all sorts of unpleasant things. He talks about his sexual desire for Mem and how she has already proven to him to be "more dutiful of a wife than you could ever be". It's the first time he's mentioned Mem directly, and it stirs up a string of terrible feelings inside of him. He wishes to die at this very moment, but decides he will do it later.

Despite the pain, Yuuri knows better than to try and free himself. John will finish when he's ready and leave him alone for the rest of the night, so normally he just closes his eyes and thinks of a hymn or a story he particularly likes. But tonight, his mind's eye takes him to the well nearby, especially when John tells him that he will kill Yuuri himself the next time he runs away, that he will bury him under the house so he can be trapped even in death.....

.

His lungs feel like they are being cut with small knives as he sprints through the forest towards the abandoned well, wearing nothing more than his bloodied nightgown. John will realize he's gone soon, but it will be too late to do anything by then. For he knows now, he understands it quite well: there is no future for him, here, or anywhere else.

His hands grip the sides of the well, and he stares down at the moon reflecting off the murky waters. His chest heaves— just a moment of fear— before he leans over, arms trembling as something in him tells him not to do it, to think of his children...

He doesn't have to fall. He feels a hand on his back, and then he's falling, down, down, down....


	2. Salem State University— October 10th-November 22nd, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not much is known about John Wilson’s first spouse, as neither were important historical figures. All I can gather is that John did a lot of traveling in his youth. He even went to Japan, so… I would assume that is where he collected Temperance. The two of them emigrated to the United States in 1714. We can assume that Temperance was Charity's mother, as Charity herself was the one who bought the property around the well and gave it its name. That, and the documents signed by the spouse when they left England give initials that match Temperance Wilson, of course.”
> 
> “That was very… I mean this is, this is incredible. We really have a time traveler on our hands, don’t we?”
> 
> Dr. Nikiforov smiles sadly. “No, we have someone who has had severe trauma inflicted on them that holds an odd obsession with a woman from the 1700s. Temperance may have disappeared in 1719, but that doesn’t mean that she planned on hiding out at the bottom of a well for 300 years. It's simply not possible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize now that most of the story is going to take place in 2020 since it begins in october 2019. brb gotta update the summary

“And that’s about all I know about Temperance. She’s most likely a legend, or a figure whose story has largely been fabricated, she wanted more than life could give and took her life by either accidentally or intentionally plunging down the wishing well. There aren’t any scholarly articles on her, so I won’t be assigning an essay on her.” The Russian professor turns back to his computer and is about to continue the powerpoint when the same student interrupts, “Then why didn’t they ever find her body?”

He sighs. “That’s why we think it’s just a story. It probably didn’t happen at all. If you want my personal opinion, Mr. Chulanont, I think it’s bogus. Just another spooky story to add to Salem’s reputation.”

Phichit nods and chews on the tip of his pencil.  _ So much for this class being interesting. We aren’t going to learn about  _ the  _ Temperance Wilson on the very day she fell down the well 300 years ago? Dr. Nikiforov can't enjoy teaching about the Revolutionary War day after day after day after day... _

“Now, let’s continue our discussion on the 18th century and our journey into becoming the United States…”

.

“You’re still going to do your project on Temperance for Visual Arts, aren’t you?” Leo catches up to Phichit after class, changing his usual plans of meeting his other friends for lunch in order to walk with Phichit. 

“Yeah. I mean, if the teacher doesn’t accept it I’ll just put it on YouTube and hope for the best.” He rolls his eyes. “Dr. Nikiforov is such a stickler.”   
  
“He makes the fact that he started college at sixteen painfully obvious. The man has never entertained a fun thought in his head once in his life. Still, he’s got a 4.8 on RateMyProfessor, so I guess he can’t be that bad.” Leo mumbles.

“I got a 72 on the exam two weeks ago. If I don’t get at least a B in this class, that 4.8 is dropping.” Phichit pulls his phone from his pocket to read a text from his roommate. “I’ll be at the well tonight to film a few things. You can come if you want.”

“I’ll be there.”

.

“I spent all evening researching conspiracy theories on Temperance,” is the first thing Leo hears when he meets Phichit in front of their dorm that night. “And all evidence points to this dickhead  _ John Wilson _ , who people theorize was the husband.”   
  
“What reason is there for that?”   
  
“Okay, so…” Phichit turns on his flashlight as the two walk into the forest to find Temperance’s Well, “John moved to the United States in 1714 with an unnamed spouse. Only their initials were shown because they were illiterate in English: T.W.”   
  
“A lot of people’s names start with T, though.”   
  
“I'm not finished.” Says Phichit, possibly quoting a Vine while also showing a little bit of attitude, “John Wilson is buried in the old cemetery. It’s the same John Wilson that came to America, by the way, because the birth dates match. It shows that he married a “Remember” in 1719, but he had children born from 1712-1716, which means he had a wife before her.”

“And?”   
  
“If he had a wife before, and… divorce wasn’t a thing at the time, why wouldn’t she have been buried with her children?”

“Okay, that’s… a valid point, I guess. But—”   
  
Phichit cuts him off, “And what Dr. Nikiforov didn’t tell us was that John Wilson’s oldest daughter, Charity, who died in the 1790s, passed down a sketch of her mother to her grandchildren. The sketch was given to her by her mother and was done back when she lived in another country. And guess what Charity’s mother was named?”

“Temperance?”   
  
“Temperance. Never buried. You might even say that she… disappeared.” 

“I thought that the plaque by the well was just a generic stock photo image put into copper, not an actual fucking person!” Leo exclaims.

“So did all of us.”   
  
“So… why isn’t this like, a big deal?”   
  
“Because no one cares about some random woman’s death, unfortunately. Unless you’re involved with a war, a person from the 1700s doesn’t matter.” Phichit pauses, swearing he heard someone calling for help in the distance. But now, he can't hear anything. He must've imagined it.

“Well, obviously, but why would Dr. Nikiforov say it was made up if there’s clearly evidence?”

“Because the idea of someone disappearing down a well is too supernatural for the likes of a skeptic.”

“That’s just pathetic. He’s a history teacher, not some kind of super popular historian whose opinion will be blasted to the media. If he wants to tell us ghosts are real I wouldn’t give a f–“

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Leo listens, and his eyes widen when they both hear the noise this time. “Someone needs help.”

The two of them spare no time in their sprint through the woods by their university (Phichit may have dislocated his shoulder by bumping into one tree too many) until they’re standing in front of Temperance’s Well. And sure enough, someone is screaming for help down there. 

The thing is, Temperance’s Well has been dry for 200 years, and sealed off by cement for 50. But right now, it’s filling up steadily and wide open. And there’s a figure in white down there, struggling to swim in the icy cold waters. Phichit’s eyes are as wide as saucers. 

He swears he has to be tripping. He reaches for his cellphone and finds it gone; he must’ve dropped it on their run. He turns to Leo, who looks like he’s going to faint. That’s right, Leo left his phone at the dorm to charge. “We have to find someone to help! Hurry!”

They sprint back in the opposite direction, but turn and decide to run in the street in hopes to flag someone down. They nearly are hit by Dr. Nikiforov’s car as he was leaving campus for the night. He slams on the breaks. “Dr. Nikiforov”, “well” and “help” are about all he understands. He instructs the boys to get into his car, and they drive to a place closer to the well. Dr. Nikiforov pulls over. His headlights shine on a figure emerging from the wood and their appearance is met with nothing but shrieks from his students. The figure is a young man, who squints and shields his face from the bright headlights. He’s wearing a nightgown in the style of the early 1700s, sopping wet. It’s dry as can be tonight. 

Perhaps a fraternity prank gone wrong in honor of Temperance?

Victor gets out of his car to help the person before he doubles over in his arms. “Call 911…” he grunts, and manages to lift the stranger into his arms. It is then that he notices the blood. “And tell them to hurry.”

***

“23 years on the force and I’ve never seen anything like this.” The officer that had responded to the call along with the emergency services says to Victor and his students once the four of them meet in the emergency room. “There’s no way of identifying him. They had to sedate him; he was hysterical, acting like he’d never seen… I can’t even describe it.” He shakes his head. “Only thing they did manage to get out of him was “temperance”. Does that mean anything at your campus, Dr. Nikiforov?”

“Unfortunately.” Victor grimaces. “There’s this unofficial holiday on campus. I’m sure you’ve heard of Temperance’s Well.”

“The sealed well by the school, Sure. And it’s still sealed.”

The three of them gape at him. “It was open earlier.”

“It’s closed now. I had my men survey the area. We asked the fraternities and even the sororities, they’ve got nothing. But there’s clear evidence of sexual assault, so that won’t look good for the school if this happened on campus…”

Phichit pinches his lips together. “Can we see him?”

“I’m afraid not.” He turns back to Dr. Nikiforov. “They’ll probably transfer him to the psych ward. But if no one comes to claim him… then this is a real mystery on our hands. People don’t just fall out of the sky. I assume we’ll be hearing from the family within the next few days, and the admissions office from Salem State will get back to us tomorrow after they look up information on him.”

“They won’t find anything on him.” Leo looks at the officer. “Because that man is Temperance Wilson, from 1719….” He flips his phone around to show the officer Temperance’s sketch. “It turns out, Temperance can be a guy’s name, too.”

“Okay, you’re just missing one thing, kid,” the officer says, “I know that story. The kid Charity passed down the sketch of her  _ mother.  _ Men can’t have babies.”

“Then run some tests. You might be surprised.”

“Hermaphroditism was actually common pre-20th century. It died out by the early 20s. They were called 'omegas' and... eh—” Victor quips. “Not that- not that I’m saying this boy  _ is  _ Temperance.”

“Well… I’ll let you know if there’s any more developments. We may need you to come back and testify if the family is located…”

***

Three days pass. Watching this “Temperance” behind the glass in solitary confinement is just heart wrenching. He really believes he’s in the wrong century, and he’s so frightened by just about everything. 

No family came forward. There is no one registered in the school as Temperance, there are no male Asian students that aren’t accounted for, and now the search has spread to other colleges in the area. 

Eventually, after about five days, Temperance seems to have accepted his fate and calms down enough to let the doctors speak with him. Another week from that, a full twelve days after his discovery, he is cleared to be questioned by an officer. There are simply no leads.

“What’s your name?” Is the first thing he is asked. 

“Temperance Wilson.” He says solemnly. His eyes are swollen from crying. “I want to go home.”

“Where is home for you, Mr. Wilson?”

“Salem. Do you- do you know where that is?”

“You’re in Salem, kid. You didn’t know that?”

Temperance appears stricken, so the officer changes the subject. “How old are you?”

“I am almost… almost twenty four. At least… I was.”

“Did you still live at home with your parents?”

“No, I… I have not seen my parents since I was fifteen, when I married… John.”

“John. Is that John Wilson?” He asks.

“Yes, do you know him? I suspect that Mem has probably married him already in my absence. She couldn’t wait to have me dead.”

“Who is Mem?”

“Remember Smythe. She is my sister in law.”

“And she has feelings for your husband?”

“He likes her more than me.” Temperance frowns. “John loathes me. That’s why he hurts me so much.”

“John hurts you? What does he do?”

“Anything he can. That’s why I… that’s why I bled when I came here. Wherever this is…”

“Temperance, what year is it?”

“1719…..”

The officer scowls. “What is your real name, kid? You’re wasting my time.”

“My- my parents named me Yuuri Katsuki.”

“And what are their names?”

“Toshiya and Hiroko…”

“That’s all I need to know. Hopefully they’ll come and get you.”

The social worker that had been working with Temperance is red faced in the hall and nearly slaps the detective when she sees him outside. “The hell was that? Do you have an ounce of sensitivity in your body?”

“I just got a lead, Yuuko, thank me later.”

“You can’t just ask someone about their abusers and walk away. It took this long just to get him to calm down, and now you’ve—“

“He has parents, and I’m going to look into them. Get that.. that history professor to research these names, too. In case this is another bluff.”

“We believe after being sexually assaulted, my client reverted to a different state of mind to cope with the incident. Perhaps this Temperance was of importance to him. Perhaps the assault happened by the well… but we cannot ask him to stop wasting our time. We need to ease the real Yuuri Katsuki to come back out of him. And this, Detective Lee, is not the way.”

He shrugs. “I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

***

“Hi Yuuri,” His “social worker” Yuuko Nishigori visits him the next morning, and he is stunned to discover that she knows his real name. “Oh, Detective Lee told me. Do you prefer Temperance? If you do, I’ll—”   
  
“Yuuri’s fine. My husband named me Temperance, anyway.”

Dr. Nikiforov is bringing her information on Temperance’s Well, John Wilson (who is currenly buried in the historic graveyard, as he has been for 270-ish years, and the rest of the Wilson family.

“That’s a pretty name. You must be from Japan. So am I.” 

“Yes, I was born there. My mother was very proud of my name.” 

“Were you an only child?”

“You are beginning to sound like Detective Lee.” Yuuri shows the slightest hint of a smile. He thinks of his sister back home, how much she fought for him not to be taken away, how she even offered herself up. But John didn't want her. “When will I be permitted to return home?”

She gives him a firm look. “When we can be assured that it is safe for you to do so. But in two days, you’re being transferred.”   
  
“Transferred, where?” 

“It’s not a hospital, like this. It’s a bit more… relaxed. I think it’ll be good for you. And I’ll be coming with you, rest assured.”

“I must admit that it is very lonely here.” He looks around his quiet, empty room. “At times late at night when I have nothing to see or think about, I start to miss my children.”   
  
“Ah, yes, you mentioned you had little ones. Do they live with their father?”   
  
He looks a bit confused. “No, as we’re married, they live with us both. Charity’s the oldest, she just turned seven. I wonder how she’s...”   
  
“Where does Charity attend school?”

He gives her a funny look. “School? For a girl…?”

***

“Good afternoon Mrs. Nishigori.” Dr. Nikiforov meets with Yuuri’s social worker later that afternoon whilst Yuuri is asleep. He passes her a folder. “Sorry for the delay. I had to enlist the help of some of my students. They know how to navigate the Internet better than I can.” he brushes his bangs away from his eyes and watches the social worker open the folder. The first page is a blown up image of the sketch of Charity Moss (nee Wilson’s) mother. It really is a spitting image. 

“Charity Wilson’s mother was never named, as she died when Charity herself was just a girl of six or seven years of age. Her father, John, remarried later on that year to a woman named Remember Smythe, who was ten years younger than John. She raised the children from John’s first marriage, including Charity, and had seven children of her own with John, only one surviving infancy, but he died before he turned twenty. That was Edwin.”

“Fascinating,” She breathes.

“Not much is known about John Wilson’s first spouse, as he wasn’t an important figure. All I can gather is that he did a lot of traveling in his youth. He even went to Japan, so… I would assume that is where he collected Temperance. The two of them emigrated to the United States in 1714. We can assume that Temperance and Charity’s mother are the same person, as Charity herself was the one who bought the property around the well and gave it its name. That, and the documents signed by the spouse when they left England give initials that match Temperance Wilson, of course."

“That was very… I mean this is, this is incredible! We really have a time traveler on our hands, don’t we?”   
  
Victor smiles sadly. “No, we have someone who has had severe trauma inflicted on them that holds an odd obsession with a woman from the 1700s. Temperance may have disappeared in 1719, but that doesn’t mean that she planned on hiding out at the bottom of a well for 300 years. It's simply not possible."

***

The night before Yuuri is to leave the hospital, he nearly suffers another breakdown. Yuuko sits by him as he cries, and her heart aches for him when he tells her how lonely he is. But he can’t name a person in this world who can visit him besides John, and he doesn’t want John. When she suggests that he socializes with the other patients, he vehemently refuses. He says that they are mean to him. She knows they are. They make fun of his accent mostly, as he really does speak like it's the 1700s. That, and of course, they make fun of him for  _believing_ it is.

“What if I could find some people to visit with you, Yuuri? Would that make you feel better?”   
  
“Who could you find in a place like this?” He sniffs, hesitantly accepting the box of disposable kerchiefs that, quite frankly, seems like a waste. 

She hums for a moment. “What about the man that found you, Dr. Nikiforov? He was very kind to you.”

“T’was kind of him to attend to me until I was taken here. I should thank him for his deed, shouldn’t I?”   
“If you want… I could have him visit you at the new facility.”   


“Please.”

***

“Good afternoon, Yuuri.” Victor, ignoring the looks of the other patients, sits across from Yuuri in the visiting room. The TV is turned off, and the only other people in the room are visiting with others. 

Yuuri tips his head. “Thank you for visiting. I am sorry to have to burden you like this.” He says softly. “‘Tis just that I… I have begun to realize that being apart from my family, as wretched as they may be at times, has made me incredibly lonely. Miss Yuuko says ‘tis good for me to see people.”

“Well, she’s right.” Victor offers him a smile. “How are you holding up? Do they treat you nicely here, at least?”   
  
He nods. “They do. But there is one strange thing… every time I ask when I can go home, they tell me I can’t. So I have come to a conclusion.”

“What is that?”   
  
“I am in hell.”

Victor almost laughs, but Yuuri’s face is serious. “This _must_ be hell. Everything is different, there are strange objects that capture people’s faces and keep them forever…” (A phone?) “...lanterns that do not need to ever be relit," (light bulbs) "carriages without horses," (cars), "boxes with people trapped inside, and… if you push a button, you may view different people…” (television).

“Have you watched anything on that box?” He asks.

“Yes. Yesterday I watched a woman who looked like she was almost from where I'm familiar, but her clothing was different, and I watched her endure the most heinous of hardships. Three marriages and the loss of a child. Her name was Scarlett O’Hara.”   
  
“Oh, I love that film.” Victor says. “ _ Gone With The Wind  _ is a classic. I assign it nearly every semester.”

Yuuri appears confused, but Victor can tell he is used to feeling that way. “Ah…”

“Have you gone outside yet? They have quite the recreational facility. I bet you would like some fresh air.”

The two walk outside, and Victor notices that Yuuri still wears the thin scrubs given to him by the hospital, when everyone else in the facility wears their own clothing. The only thing he has is a bloody nightgown and undergarments, which he obviously can’t wear here. 

“Would you like something else to wear, Yuuri? That can’t be comfortable.”   
  
“It itches.” He admits.

Victor makes a decision on-the-whim, as always. “Then I’ll buy you a few outfits. I think you need it.”   
  
“You do not have to do that!” Yuuri squeezes his arm. “I’m nothing more than an inconvenience to you, why should you spend anything on me?”   
  
“You deserve to be comfortable, after what you went through.” He says.

“I suppose falling down a  _ well _ was a bit harrowing.”   
  
“How did you fall down a well that’s been sealed off for years?”   
  
Yuuri shifts uncomfortably. “It wasn’t sealed when I fell. I must have been asleep down there for longer than I thought..."

***

“This is for Yuuri Katsuki.” Victor returns to the facility late that evening, once visiting hours are over. “Three outfits, pajamas, socks, and underwear. I guesstimated on the size. If it’s too big or too small, I left the receipt in the—”   
  
“I’m sure Yuuri will appreciate it.” says the receptionist. 

.

Yuuri takes a shower after his new clothing is delivered and feels more comfortable than he ever has in his entire twenty-three years. The underwear is thin and fits to his form without needing to be tied. The pajamas are cozy and cute, and he sleeps better than he has in days that night. 

The only problem that came with Victor giving him the clothes is that it sparked an infatuation within Yuuri. He began requesting for Victor to visit more often. And Victor did, almost every day. Most of the time, all they did was watch history documentaries together. Yuuri found them as fascinating as a good football game. They started in the early 1700s, and currently they are at the start of the 1900s. Victor can tell that showing Yuuri the world's progressions in this way is getting the gears turning in his head. He's starting to understand that it isn't 1719 anymore. The question still remains, though, of why he ever thought it was in the first place.

When the episodes of the historical documentary ends, Victor always asks what Yuuri thinks of it, and Yuuri always is filled with questions. Victor has quite a few himself. He is surprised on how knowledgable Yuuri is on the early 1700s, for starters...

He's really done some research into this persona he's taken on, hasn't he?

***

“Anything new?” Yuuko Nishigori visits with Detective Lee on the beginning of her fifth week with Yuuri.  
The detective massages his temples. “Nothing. There are plenty of Katsuki’s in Japan. But there’s no record of a Yuuri Katsuki coming to America in this century. Legally, at least. I’m not sure I could track down his family in Japan unless they contact us first.”

Yuuko nods. “So what do we do? Keep him here?”   
  
“You can’t. No one has that kind of money. You’re going to have to find him a caretaker or something, soon enough. And… try harder to get him to accept it isn’t 1719, it’s creeping me out.”

“He doesn’t need a caretaker. Mr. Katsuki is fully capable of caring for himself. He would, however, need a very attentive housemate and a lot of therapy. But who on earth could I find to take on that role if we aren’t going to find his family?”

“How about that professor that Yuuri likes?” Detective Lee is scrolling through a meme page on Facebook. He’s not paying attention. It’s like he doesn’t care about Yuuri at all.

“I can’t ask a full time faculty member to take him on.”

“Why not? He can leave Yuuri in his office during the day if he really had to. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Yuuko certainly has her hands full, moving forward. She can’t just ask Victor to take on the care, the frequent appointments and emotional support of a twenty-three year old who is convinced it is 1719.

But if she doesn’t choose someone Yuuri trusts, what will happen to him?

By the end of the month after attempting to get Yuuri acquainted with the selected caretakers (and failing, because Yuuri doesn't like any of them) her only option is to find a homeless shelter for him. She attempts another option.

.

“I would never ask you this unless I thought it was best for Yuuri.” Yuuko begins. “But I need your help. The center needs Yuuri out. It’s been a over a month and while he’s significantly calmer, he still believes he’s Temperance Wilson. They can’t keep him locked up for that, if he isn’t harming himself or anyone else, and shows no sign of drug use, and he has no way of paying them or even getting government benefits since we can't find out where he came from…”

“So, where do I come into all of this?” Victor's office is relatively big, but it's filled wall-to-wall with books on various historical periods. She's heard that some are even first editions and wonders if he's read them all.

The one thing that she does notice though, is that his office shows no sign of family; only a large, brown poodle. “He has no place to go. No family, no friends, and… if John does exist, he hasn’t come calling for him.”

“I see…”

“They’re going to send him to a homeless shelter. While Yuuri is able to function in this environment, to some extent, there’s no way he’s ready to get back on his feet and live alone. He can’t even read English.”

“He can live with me, then.” Victor says without another thought. He shifts his attention to his cell phone on the table and starts sending a text to someone.

Yuuko's eyes widen, but she stays professional. “The issue is, he will need to attend therapy several times a week. You teach classes extensively, and…”

“Well, I live with my mother. She’s a retired therapeutic recreational therapist and spends her evenings and weekends in Boston. But she could take him to earlier appointments when I can’t.”

“Dr. Nikiforov, this is a huge responsibility. Are you  _ sure  _ you’d be willing _ —“ _

“I’ll do it.”

“They need him out by the end of the month.”

“I’ll prepare a room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i'm a junior in university but i do not know legal details so if you're a lawyer or social worker reading this i may be wrong in how things were dealt with with Yuuri's situation, but this is an AU where people time travel and men have babies sometimes so you can expect things to not be 150% accurate XD
> 
> Thanks for the love so far!!!!
> 
> Next time: Victor and Yuuri sign discharge papers, and Yuuri will go to live in Victor's home. Surely that means he's being married off again, right? But when Yuuri discovers that that's not the case, and that the professor doesn't feel the same way, he takes a walk to the old well.
> 
> It's open again. What might happen if he climbs in again?


	3. Salem, Massachusetts—November 28th-November 30th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was so mean to him, and-” Charity chokes out, hugging him when he offers her, “and now he’s gone! T-This is all my fault… all my fault!!!”
> 
> “Oh Charity, don’t think that way.” He kisses her hair. “‘Tis just God’s will that he be gone.”
> 
> “God has a will for everyone, Father? And He loves us all?”
> 
> “Of course, Charity.”
> 
> “Then why did He treat Mother so terribly?”
> 
> He and Mem exchange looks. “God only punishes those that do bad.”
> 
> She looks him right in his eyes when she asks, “Why hasn’t He punished you?”

“Charity, come away from the window.” Mem orders, head aching from hearing John’s children cry so terribly all morning after Temperance had yet to be found. It’s funny, they’d never acted like they cared about him before.

“But what if Mother comes back?” asks Charity, in case Mem grows suspicious of her. She’d seen too much, and she isn’t sure if Mem knows that or not.  
  
“I don’t think that Temperance is coming back, love.” Mem hides a smile behind her hand as she stands. She places a rather tightly-gripped hand on the back of the girl’s neck. “Now come away from the window, and stop those tears. Your father has a headache.”

“What shall we do without a mother?” Charity wriggles out of Mem’s hold and goes to sit by her father’s feet. “Father, what shall we d—”  
  
“Do shut up…” John groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You still have a mother. Mem will be your mother now.”

All three children look up at him with gaping faces, but Charity is the only one bold enough to speak. “But, I don’t _want_ —”  
  
John stomped his foot, inches from Charity’s hand. “I said _shut up_!”

Charity covers her mouth to stifle her sobs, and hugs her little sister. _Mother, please… don’t be dead._

But she knows better.

_She remembers seeing Yuuri run by, and Mem had gotten up to leave the house. So Charity followed. She saw her mother, leant over the well, and Mem crept up behind him. Her mother didn’t notice her there, but surely must have seen Mem’s face after Mem pushed him down the well—_

“Why are you crying anyway, Charity?” Mem straightens the sheets on the children’s trundle. “You often told me of your ill feelings towards that wench.” She can’t help but to chuckle. “And now you cry like an infant void of his mother’s breast.”

_She watched at how widely Mem smiled as she crept away from the well._

_She remembered not hearing a splash._

_And when she approached the well, she couldn’t see him at all._

And now, she watches the looks that Mem and Father continue to exchange, in his time of alleged mourning, and she realizes that they aren’t sad at all. “I thought that life would be better with you as my mother, Aunt Mem, but I- I was wrong!”

“Charity Anne, I won’t warn you again.”

.

“And you’re _sure_ he’s dead, Mem…”  
  
Charity lies still, keeping her breathing consistent should her father notice that she is awake.

“He threw himself down a well, there’s no coming back from that, John.”

“It’s just that… his body has not been found. I can’t help but to wonder…”

“Perhaps that witch friend of his retrieved it before we came looking, John. Fear naught. Temperance isn’t coming back.”  
  
“Then we wed tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the children will be ecstatic.”

“Except Charity. She is acting strange, isn’t she?”

“Did she not just lose her mother, John, dear?”

John smirks. “Who?”

Charity nearly gags when she hears her aunt and her father kiss. But inside, she is being eaten up with guilt, for she’s the reason this is happening. For a while, she wanted this.

She…

_Last spring, she was sick with a fever and slept until the late morning. She woke to her mother putting a cool rag across her forehead. She opens her eyes to find a fresh, red mark at the corner of his eye. “Did Father do that?” She asks, voice hoarse._

_Yuuri shakes his head. “No, darling, I fell. Don’t you worry about me.”_

_She nods. “Well, maybe you should be more careful.”_

_“Maybe I should.”_

_But Yuuri fell ill, too. Arguably worse than Charity, with no one to care for him but himself and a house to run. She sat by the fire on the stone floor of their cabin with little Lydia as the two of them played dolls and ignored how Yuuri struggled to carry just the dinner pot over to the fire._

_But she didn’t expect him to drop it along with tripping on his own feet, splattering their dinner all over the floor and the children and nearly singeing his hands in the fire. She didn’t ask if he was okay. Rather, she scolded him. “_ Mother _, you idiot! You just ruined my dolls and my dress! Must you be so clumsy?? Wait ‘til I tell Father about this!”_

_To her surprise, Yuuri doesn’t get up right away. His forehead is pressed against the cold stone floor, though his knees are on the ground. It’s like he’s bowing a little too low to some king._

_“Can’t you hear, Mother? I_ said _—”_  
  
_“Get away from me…” Yuuri said lowly, shoulders shaking. It seems that he's too weak to stand._

_Lydia didn’t get the message, I suppose. She didn’t like what he said to her sister, and so she slung her doll with great force, hitting the back of Yuuri’s head._

_“I_ said _get away! Both of you!” He pushed himself up onto all fours, clutched the doll by the neck and tossed it into the fire. In her rage, Charity used a stick to retrieve the doll and let the hot ashes fall all over Yuuri’s hands._

.

_“He does it to himself, you know. On purpose.” Aunt Mem whispers to Grandmother Wilson at the door._

_“On purpose? Mem, how do you know this?” She whispers back._

_“Why else should any decent person lose four— now perhaps five— babies? He doesn’t know how blessed he is to have John, and tries to kill all his children. I feel bad for Charity and Lydia, especially. Just earlier, Temperance tried throwing baby Lydia into the fire! And when he couldn’t, he burned her hands with hot ashes as punishment for reacting!”_

_“Mem… oh, Lord…”_  
  
_“Charity told me herself. She asks daily for me to take Temperance’s place, and I’ve a good mind to, at this point. I suppose all we can do is pray that God finally puts the wench out of his misery and kills him this time along with that baby.”_

_Grandmother Wilson simply shakes her head. “Poor Charity…”_

_._

_Father came home the next day, during their midday meal. Yuuri sat uncomfortably, as all his undergarments were stained, no matter how many layers he added, and it was difficult to hide them at this point. Father didn’t know about the miscarriage. If he did, Charity isn’t sure he’d have come, anyway. He didn’t love her mother all that much._

_Yuuri can’t hold a spoon. His hands shake too much. He sweats, even though it’s cold, and his face is a strange pale color. Charity sips on her soup, watching him carefully. All of them wince when Father comes inside._

_He sits at the head of the table, and her mother is quick to rise and starts to serve him. He notices how sickly Yuuri is. “What’s the matter with you?”_

_Yuuri sighs, timidly taking a seat beside his husband. “I lost another baby. Just yesterday.”_ __  
  
_“I wish you could do something right.”_

_Yuuri allows himself to cry, right in front of everyone. Charity watches tears trickle down his cheeks as he tries to remind John that they have three children together, so therefore he hasn't completely failed. But John doesn't listen. "Do you see anyone else losing five children, Temperance?"_

_He hesitates._

_"No? I asked you a question!"_  
  
_"No..." Yuuri looks away._  

 _"My family believes that you are doing this on purpose. Do you understand how disgustingly selfish that is? How disgustingly selfish you are? Your only purpose in life is to reproduce, and, if you can't do that, what use is there for you in this world?"_  
  
_"Yes, John," Yuuri wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "Perhaps we can discuss this later when the children aren't around."_

_It’s harder to pretend she doesn’t care once Yuuri’s taken outside after dinner so that they can argue. She has to pretend she doesn’t hear her father’s yelling and can’t help but to think that things would never be this way if Mem was her mother._

_Yuuri cried all evening, and even when she goes to bed that night she hears him. She wonders how it is possible to have so many tears in your system._

_When Father leaves early in the morning to help one of his siblings repair their home, she can hear him choking on sobs. And she says the most terrible of things. “Would you stop all that crying, Mother? You’re annoying me.”_

_Yuuri stops, just for a moment, and then says as calmly as he can, “C-Charity, would you please fetch your aunt? I- I don’t think I’m going t-to be able to get up today…”_

_"That’s why Father calls you lazy.” She murmurs, sitting up on the trundle. “Grandmother Wilson says ‘tis a shame he took you from that uncivilized land in the first place.”_

_“‘Tis the country of your heritage, too, Charity Wilson, do not disrespect it again.”_

_“Of my heritage?” She repeats. “I am English, and English alone. Perhaps you should be, too. Maybe you’d start acting normal.”_

_“Do not speak to me in such an ill way, Charity. I won’t allow it.”_

_“Father does.”_

.

Charity stifles a sob, and it is then that her aunt and father pull apart. “Is that you, Charity?”

She hears her father’s footsteps approaching the trundle. “What ails you, daughter?”

“I was so mean to him, and-” she chokes out, hugging him when he offers, “and now he’s gone! T-This is all my fault… all my fault!!!”

“Oh Charity, don’t think that way.” He kisses her hair. “‘Tis just God’s will that he be gone.”  
  
“God has a will for everyone, Father? And He loves us all?”  
  
“Of course, Charity.”  
  
“Then why did He treat Mother so terribly?”

He and Mem exchange glances. “God only punishes those that do bad.”

She looks right in his eyes when she says, “Why hasn’t He punished you?”

* * *

Present Day

“It is a bit unexpected. But I suppose living with Dr. Nikiforov won’t be the worst thing to happen to me. He’s kind, besides.” Yuuri packs his things, hoping the staff doesn’t hear him talking to himself. “I just hope I am dutiful and don't cause him any burden." The moment he was told last night that he would be moving in with Victor, Yuuri's been feeling a strange sense of relief, but also a bit of worry. If he lives with Victor and marries him— because you can't just live with a man— what would happen between himself and John? Which marriage would become invalid?

It was a thought that plagued the back of his mind for a while.

When Victor comes to get him, Yuuri smiles and hugs him for the first time. “Thank you for doing this.” Yuuri whispers. His bag is packed and he had just finished speaking with his social worker; she had set some ground rules and explained to him how things were going to be moving forward. He had a lot of appointments to attend over the next few weeks, which Victor's mother was going to take him to. But Yuuko told him that eventually she'd like him to start taking the bus to gain some independence. He nodded, but he had no idea what a bus was.

“No problem. Let’s just sign some papers and get out of here, okay? Maybe we can get dinner. We have a few errands to run, too.”

“Sure.” Yuuri hugs his arm. Since he can’t write, he simply scribbles a T to sign for himself when it comes down to discharge. He was too overwhelmed to think about processing how he was told to spell his name. He’ll be working on reading and writing three times a week on top of therapy.

Victor typically works from 8:15 in the morning to 4:00 in the afternoon, Monday to Thursday, and 9:00 am to 1:00 pm. on Fridays. He’s off every weekend, but he often spends that time grading homework and managing his online classes when he can’t during the week.

Fortunately, the semester ends in two weeks. So, after he submits final grades, he will have two weeks off until the intersession begins, when he only teaches online. It’ll be a good time to help Yuuri.

He leads Yuuri to his car in the parking lot— simple and silver, but with stylish leather seats and a smell he'd soon understand came from the tree-shaped air freshener perched on the rearview mirror. 

The two head to a local shopping center, and Yuuri is very quiet during the ride. This is the first time that he’s seen the roads up close, as the last time he was transported it was in an ambulance. He looks fascinated, sure, but also very sad. 

“Yuuri, how would you like a haircut?” Victor says, parking in front of a building with a bright, neon sign. Yuuri can’t read, but there are scissors on the logo, so he assumes it is a place to get his hair cut at. He touches the mass of poofy hair around his shoulders and nods. “That’d be… wonderful, Dr. Nikiforov.”

“Great.” He opens the car door for him and leads him across the road. “And, as I’ve said before, you’re more than welcome to call me Victor. The “Doctor” thing is really just for my students and colleagues. I don’t expect you to confuse me with an actual doctor.”

“Yuuko says the type of doctor you are just means you have attended school for a very long time.”

“Ten years. And then I landed this non-adjunct job, which was great.” He notices Yuuri’s confusion, and clarifies, “An adjunct is a teacher who only teaches a small amount. They get paid very little.”  
  
“Ah, I understand. I wouldn’t wish to be an adjunct after ten years of schooling.”

“Nobody does, but we all have to.” He opens the door, and Yuuri listens to the bell chime as they enter. There are strange chairs everywhere and sinks behind them. Some people have their heads in very large cones. He doesn’t even care to ask, he just follows Victor to the desk. “He needs a haircut.” Victor says, and Yuuri nods.

A few minutes later, he’s seated in one of the chairs. “How much do you want taken off?” Asks the man behind him. He drapes a smock of sorts over Yuuri’s shoulders.

Yuuri looks at himself in the mirror across from them. “Not too short. I want to keep the… the…”  
  
“Volume?” The hairstylist guesses. 

“Yes. Just make it shorter. Not thinner.”

“Gotcha.”

He pours this excellent smelling soap into Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri looks across at Victor. “Victor, do you use this all the time?”  
  
“What, shampoo? Sure, who doesn’t?”  
  
“This smells far better than what was provided for me!”  
  
Victor and the hairdresser smile. “We sell this up front, if you want to take some home.”  
  
“Can I?”  
  
“Okay.”

***

Yuuri clutches the bag with sweet smelling soap and runs his fingers through his hair with his other hand, beaming. “Thank you, Dr.— eh… Victor. It looks great, doesn't it?”

“It suits you. I always come here, so I knew they would do a good job.” Victor sticks the bag in the back of his car. “Now, let’s go buy you a few things you’re going to need for the house.”

“You are so kind to me.” Yuuri pauses, right in the middle of the street. “I am in disbelief. I’ve done nothing to deserve such kindness… I can’t thank you enough for all this.”

“Please, don’t think you need to do something to deserve kindness, Yuuri.” says Victor as he guides him up to the sidewalk in front of the store.

It sells mostly clothing, but also basic home essentials like comforter sets, trash cans, pillows, toothbrushes, rugs, curtains, and lamps. “Pick out one of everything. Your room is tragically bare. The only spare blanket we have is one that belongs on an old woman’s bed. Which makes sense, because it belongs to my mother.”

“Why do you still live with your mother?” Yuuri runs his hands across the material of a particularly fluffy pillow.

“She’s hardly around. She leaves all evening to visit with friends or attend events, and she’s gone every weekend. Our schedules are the opposite. In fact, the only time I ever see her is for a few minutes in the morning.”  
  
“You’re a lonely man, aren’t you, Victor?”

Victor doesn’t respond. “So, do you want that pillow?”

It is purple and made out of a fleece material. Yuuri nods fervently and takes it off the shelf. He hugs it. “I think I could sleep another 300 years on this…” He mumbles, and Victor pretends he doesn’t hear. He was instructed by Yuuri’s team— his psychiatrist, his therapist, his social worker and the head of the center Yuuri just left— to try not to encourage Yuuri’s talk of his alleged past life. He can comfort him through active listening, but he cannot act like it exists when Yuuri isn’t upset about it.

“I like this blanket.” Yuuri touches the plastic cover of a light blue comforter set. “May I get this one?”

.

They leave the store with far more than they came in with, and Victor struggles to stuff it all into the trunk. He wonders how sad his bank account looks. It’s a good thing he’s getting paid tomorrow.

“Are you hungry, Yuuri?” Victor asks once they are close to his home. But Yuuri’s tired, and his eyes droop shut while his head is leaned against the window. “Actually, I… ate before I left.”

“I’m sure after today you’d like to just get some sleep, huh?”

“Please.”

***

To Victor’s horror, his mother is actually home tonight. She’s never home this early unless she’s sick. It must be because she knows Yuuri is coming.

“Ah, my mother is here. Her name is Eloise, but she goes by Elle.” The front door opens, and Victor adds, “aaaand there she is.”

Yuuri dips his head, he’s feeling a little shy. But there’s no need to. Elle is a wonderfully kind person, and she helps Yuuri inside while Victor carries the bags in. “I’m so glad you’ve come to live with us.” Elle says as she leads Yuuri down the hall to the guest room. “I hope you don’t mind plants. Now that it’s cold, I’ve brought in my outdoor plants and there are a few in your room.” She opens the door and flips on the light. “I think, with what you just bought, this room will be quite nice. Do you like TV? We’ve just added a box to this room last month.”

Yuuri looks around. There are double windows on the back wall, with a bed in the center. The frame is painted white on the bed, and it’s about as large as his bed back home. The floors are of dark wood, and the walls are painted a light green.

There’s a white desk and chair on the adjacent wall, and a television facing the bed. Yuuri turns to her. “Thank you, Elle. This room is beautiful.”

She looks delighted. “I understand that tomorrow is your birthday. I think it’ll be a great time for us to get to know each other, especially while Victor is at work. I have to take the dog to her grooming appointment. Perhaps we could walk together and then get breakfast?”

He nods, but has no time to respond. Victor sets the first of the bags down on Yuuri’s new bed. “I’ll get your new clothes into the wash before bed. But do you think your old pajamas are enough for the night?” Asks Elle.

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much.”

After she leaves the room, Victor helps Yuuri to put away some of his new items, and Yuuri watches with wonder at how the room seems to just light up with all his new things. He sleeps with the new comforter, ignoring Victor’s warning that they should be washed first.

Victor sits on his bed and watches a documentary about deep sea animals until Yuuri falls asleep. He smooths over Yuuri’s hair and stares at him for a moment. _What have I gotten myself into, huh_?

_Goodnight, Yuuri._

***

In the morning, Yuuri is surprised to find himself alone in bed, when he assumed Victor would sleep there. After all, aren’t they married now?

He’s moved in with him, Victor invested all that money on him, they signed papers like Yuuri did at his first wedding. And Victor seems to really like him…

He likes Victor. But they can’t be together because Yuuri is married to John.

Or… was.

He’s not sure how that works, since Yuuri's technically from the past, and…

Victor is very kind to him. He’s handsome, very handsome. And Yuuri likes his smile, his beautiful blue eyes, his…

“Yuuri, are you awake? I have your clothes washed and folded. Can I bring them in?”

Yuuri bites his lip. “Yes, please, Elle…”

She opens the door and sets the basket on his dresser. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thank you.” He rubs his eyes. “Where’s Victor?”

“He’s off to work. He’ll be back this afternoon, before I leave, and the two of you will have the place to yourselves all weekend.” She pats her pocket, then adds, "Oh, I almost forgot. Victor got this for you in case there's any emergencies." She gives him a flip-phone, and Yuuri holds it like it's a foreign object. "The numbers for your doctors, your social worker, Victor, and myself, are already preset. And he changed the language to Japanese, somehow. Something about that being easier for you to understand."

"Wow..." Yuuri flips it open and stares at it in wonder.

Elle can't help but wonder why Yuuri couldn't get a nicer phone, but Victor explained earlier that it was a hassle to get Yuuri's team to agree to anything at all. They think that access to the Internet wouldn't be beneficial to him right now, but negotiated only because they agreed he needed to be able contact his team in case of emergencies.

After he dresses, he helps Elle make breakfast and listens to her complain about the lack of groceries in the house. "Victor usually buys them, you see, on Friday afternoons or Saturday mornings. Would you call him and ask him to bring home some butter and mashed potatoes?"

Yuuri nods eagerly, picking up the phone that's been living in his pocket all morning. He scrolls through his contacts and selects Victor's name. "So, I press this, and then...?"

"Then it calls him."

"Will he hear my voice?" 

"Yep. Give it a try." 

He presses the button and listens to it ring, face lighting up when he hears Victor's voice. "Yes, Yuuri?"  
  
"Hello, Victor! How did you know it was me?" 

"Lucky guess. What can I do for you?"

"Ah, yes. Elle asks that you bring home butter and mashed potatoes."

"Very well. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. Elle and I are just meal planning. I- I guess I'd better let you get back to work."

"Well, it's slow today. I appreciate hearing another human voice."

***

It is late, but the weather is surprisingly warm tonight, and so the two of them sit out in the garden on the swing. Something is heavy on Yuuri’s mind. But judging by the way he keeps looking at Victor, it’s better that he doesn’t find out.

So Victor stays quiet and just watches over him until Yuuri’s ready to speak on his own. They had a lovely afternoon and evening together. Yuuri made dinner with barely any help from Elle, and it was delicious. He continued decorating his room and played a board game with Victor called _Clue_ , and won. Victor gave him a Polaroid camera as a birthday gift, and he kept it around his neck after they went outside.

“I never thought I’d live to twenty four. And even now that I’m here, I… I don’t feel my age. There’s so much I’ve been… neglected of, in my life.” Yuuri looks at Victor out of the corner of his eye.

Victor rests a hand over his. “All of that is over now. It’s never too late to start again—”  
  
“Life ended for me when I was fifteen, when I married, when I was _forced_ to marry John Wilson. Those years aren’t ever coming back.”

Victor frowns. “I started college at sixteen and did nothing other than work, study, and sleep, for ten years. And I know that’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through, but I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t the only one who’s never lived.”

Yuuri gives him a curious look.

“While I’m great at what I do, and I love what I do, there isn’t much for me outside of work. My colleagues are always trying to set me up with people to date. They think I’m strange for not being interested. I would be interested in the right person, obviously, it’s just… I guess I’m too picky.”

“So, you’ve dated anyone before? And you aren’t now?” _What about me_ ? _Do I not count_?

“No, you might as well say I’m married to my profession.” Victor smiles weakly, smile fading when he notices Yuuri’s stricken expression. “What?”

Yuuri looks away, heart aching in his chest. “Nothing, ‘tis just that I… I believe I misunderstood something.” He can’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. “I’m going to bed, now. Goodnight.”

“Wait a minute,” Victor takes his hand to stop Yuuri from walking away. “What’s the matter? Talk to me…”

Yuuri pinches his lips together to keep quiet, but the words come out anyway, far worse than what he was thinking of. “I like you.”

Victor can’t help but to gasp. “Now Yuuri, you know that—”  
  
“I like you, Victor, and I cannot help it. I-I’ve never felt this way about anyone before; you’re so _kind_ to me, and I just—”

“But Yuuri—”

Yuuri makes a mistake in his desperation. He doesn’t know why, but in his desperation, he just wishes he could make what he wants so badly true. He leans in to seal the gap between himself and Victor— having to stand on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

And Victor doesn’t pull back for a few seconds. In fact, he seems to indulge Yuuri in this selfish want. He places a hand on Yuuri’s arm, and his lips briefly ghost over Yuuri’s before he uses his hand to push Yuuri back slightly. “Yuuri, we are just friends, okay? We’re not going to— we can’t do this.”

Yuuri’s face is bright red, and he brushes past Victor, using his shoulder for a little extra force. “Then _why_ would you keep me here unless you actually wanted me??  Why else would you bring me into your home instead of letting the state have me?”

“Calm down, Yuuri…” Victor follows him back towards the house, but Yuuri’s already very upset, and at this point it is going to get worse before it gets better. “How- how about we go inside and call Yuuko? Perhaps she can clear some things up for you, and— _Yuuri_!”

" _What_? I don't want to talk to her about this! It's the same every time! If I tell her about what's going on she's just going to send me back to the hospital!"

"Maybe you should, if you really cannot handle— I mean, come on now, Yuuri. Aren't you tired of defending your story that you're from the 1700s? Life could be so much easier if you'd just cooperate."

While Victor turns to open the back door, Yuuri runs. It’s what he always does when he’s ashamed, or afraid, or… both. There’s only one place he knows how to get to from here, and he goes there. Victor went inside to call Yuuri’s social worker. He couldn't have gotten far.

***

At around eight o’clock the next morning, Yuuri enters Victor’s home again, walking right past his social worker and Victor. He sets a stack of photographs and the Polaroid on the counter, then retires to his room, locking the door.

He was drenched.

The social worker picks up the first in the stack of photos and gasps. “Victor, _look_.”

There are ten photos. The first is of the well, but it indeed looks very different. For it is open. The second photo is of a different well, for there is no plaque— no, it’s the same one! But older, somehow…

The third is of a row of small cabins on a dirt road. There are people dressed the same way Yuuri was when he was first found. The fourth is the front of one house in particular. The fifth is of a little girl of about seven years old. She looks like Yuuri. The sixth and seventh of two more children, the eighth of the three of them together. The ninth is the inside of the home, which Victor is fascinated by. And the tenth is a man entering the house, and Victor knows who it is at once. “That must be John.”

“John… Wilson? Where are these pictures from?”

“They appear to be legitimate, as they are dated properly.... But I don’t know of any place around here that big that holds reenactments of the early 18th century… especially at night…”

“What could this mean, Victor? Is… is Yuuri telling the truth?”

Victor doesn’t want to say that Yuuri really is from the 1700s. But if he isn’t, then he certainly is from some sort of strange cult that’s hidden somewhere around here. And he is telling the truth. He does have children out there, and John does exist. The only question is…

Yuuko knocks on Yuuri’s door. “Hey, Yuuri… can you please unlock the door? We believe you, honey… we just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She listens to his footsteps pad across the hardwood, and then he opens it. His face is bruised. “Oh dear…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u, next.
> 
> Obviously we can't consider Charity or her siblings the "bad guys" in the story as they only treat Yuuri the way they do because it's how they were taught to treat him. Charity's the only one that might be considered old enough to know better, but again, she treated him that way because she noticed the positive attention she received from her extended family for doing so. Plus, since her father only seems to be angry when Yuuri's around, she blames him. So yeah, it's a sad situation. 
> 
> Next time: we find out what happened on the other side of the well, how Yuuri managed to take pictures of his kids, print them, and not get killed in the process. Also, Christmas stuff


	4. between the centuries— November 29th-December 6th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dr. Nikiforov, can I talk to you for a sec?” Phichit approaches his professor after class one morning in early December.
> 
> “Sure. What’s up?”
> 
> “So um… I was looking into the- the whole Temperance thing, again. And something weird happened.” He glances around to make sure no one is listening. “The Wiki page is gone. There’s not a single conspiracy theory about Temperance online, when there used to be dozens. All the videos are removed. And I went to the well this morning, and the plaque is literally different. There’s no picture, there’s no Charity. It just says it was found by historians, and that Charity died when she was seven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys! no new chapter until Friday ;(

November 29th, 1719

Charity had spent far too long waiting for her grandparents to fall asleep. Once they finally did, she slipped out of the house to make her patronage by the well. It’s been just over a month since her mother’s death, and yet so much as changed. Her father married her aunt just a few days after her mother’s death, and she’s already expecting a baby.  

Something else changed, too. Her father treats her differently. He used to be kind, and his family always referred to her as his favorite. But now, she sees something completely different. He's very snappy with her and seems to get annoyed whenever he hears her voice. Mem isn't kind to her either, and often scolds her for doing things she's always done. Due to some unexpected complications in Mem's early pregnancy (Charity does not realize that Mem is already ten weeks pregnant in a not-quite seven week long marriage) she's been left solely to care for her younger brother and sister, even though she is barely seven. Because of her age, she doesn’t do the best job at it, when she herself still needs caring for. She didn’t realize just how much her mother did for her until she didn’t have one anymore.

Her hair is messy and has been tied back for six days now without the sight of a brush. Yuuri fixed her hair for her every day, despite how much she squirmed and complained. Lydia, too, whose curly, dark hair seemed impossible at times. He was patient. And they took him for granted.

Charity kneels in front of the well, folding her hands as if she's praying. “Hi, Mother. I suppose you are still angry with me, but I know ‘tis very lonely wherever your soul lie…” Why does she find herself choking up at such simple words? She's hardly begun! “Mother, you once told me death will bring you the most splendid sleep you’ve ever received. But… can’t you wake up now?” She covers her mouth to silence her weeping. “My heart is aching, Mother. I thought I hated you, I thought I didn’t need you, but… but… I do! I-I’m just a  _child_ , and Father wants me to be in charge of everything, and I’m not ready for that!”  

“Charity…”

“If I had one wish, I- I’d wish to start my whole life over! ‘Tis impossible, but I just want a chance to treat you better! I’m so sorry for everything, Mother!”

Yuuri finds himself tearing up. He’s been sitting behind the well for a few minutes, clutching his camera from its place inside of his satchel. He wears his washed nightgown from the night he disappeared. Slowly, he stands. He knows that there’s no good way to do this, that she’s going to be frightened regardless. He crouches beside her and rests a hand on her shoulder. “Charity Wilson, you better not be crying for me.”

She gasps, jolting when she notices him. She looks like she’s going to scream, but she says nothing at all. 

“I’m not a ghost Charity, you need not be frightened of me.”

Still, she gapes at him. “I- I saw Aunt Mem p-push you… how…” 

“I don’t know how, Charity. I just know that my heart beats as before.”

She doesn’t ask where he’s been, or what they’re going to do now. She collapses into his hold and weeps bitterly, too bitterly for someone of her age. He holds her and says nothing, knowing she needs nothing more than his presence. But still, it hurts to be near her. All he can remember is the wicked things she believed about him. Burning his hands with those ashes…

“Father’s remarried.” She says after wiping her face on his nightgown. He grimaces, just briefly, before his thoughts clear. “Remarried?’

“Yes. Everyone thought you were dead, so…”

“Then… then I can…” He looks up. “Charity, love, where are your brother and sister?”

“They are with Grandmother Wilson tonight.”

An idea comes to him. “Perhaps we can collect them. But first.” He opens his satchel and reveals his camera.

“What is that?” Charity asks, hiding behind his arm.  

“Don’t worry about this. I just need to use it for a few moments.” Yuuri turns the strange object towards the well. There is a flash, and suddenly paper is coming out of the bottom of it. It is an image of the well, right before them!

Yuuri does this several more times, from the walk to the house to the house itself. But he must hide it when he hears voices coming from inside Goody Wilson’s home.

It is too late to hide once the front door swings open. They were looking for Charity.

Goody Wilson’s eyes widen. She pales like she’s seen a ghost, and she literally faints in her husband’s arms.

“What do ye want, witch?” Asks Mr. Wilson, dragging Goody Wilson back into the house, remaining cautious. 

“The children. My children.” Yuuri stands tall in front of the cowering old man. “I’ve come to collect them, now that John has indulged in his polygamous desires.”

At first, it seems like it’s going to work out. Mr. Wilson tells the drowsy children that they must come with him. Until the most horrible of things happens.

They tell him that they do not want to go with him, and just when Yuuri is urging them to reconsider, he feels a presence behind him and knows he’s fucked. But before he can be hurt, be dragged away, Charity takes the camera from the satchel and captures a photo of her father.

***

“What are we supposed to do? You  _said_ he was dead!” John whispers sharply to his new wife while his old spouse is unconscious on the bed.  

“I saw him fall down the well! Of course I assumed he didn’t survive!”

“Well I assume he did, now! How could you be sure he fell, and what were you even doing out there in the first—”  
  
“Father,” Charity calls from the loft, where she is being punished. “Aunt Mem only knows because she pushed him. I- I saw it with mine own eyes.” 

“Did I give you permission to speak yet, little chit?”

She clamps her mouth shut.

Eventually, her father and Mem leave to go to over to Grandmother Wilson’s home to discuss the situation. She watches her mother while tears drip down her face.  _This is what it felt like for him to have to sit up here all day when Father punished him for speaking. Where he watched me be so kind to Aunt Mem and so dreadful to him..._

“Charity, do you ‘fink they’re gonna burn him?” Asks little Lydia. She pretended to be asleep all this time, the sly little girl.

“They won’t, not so long as I’m alive.” Comes a stranger’s voice. Charity tries to scream, but her voice is silenced.

It is Minako, Yuuri’s dear friend. Now she knows that the old woman really  _is_ a witch…   
She holds the camera that she somehow got ahold of and instructs Charity to come down from the loft. "I need to take some pictures of the three of you children. Stand up straight, Lydia. Smile?"

Lydia rubs at her eyes after the flash goes off and is ushered to the side by Minako, for her brother to take her place. Yuuri's son is almost completely deaf and has hardly smiled in his life. He hates his son's name because he has his father's name, so Yuuri often refers to him by his middle name: Andrew. He is very close with his father and spends most of the day following him around wherever he goes. And John is very kind to his son, probably kinder than he is to anyone. For that, Yuuri is glad. 

She smiles at the boy and actually manages to get him to smile back. She snaps the picture. Charity knows what to do and lets Minako take her picture, and then she ushers the three of them together for a fourth. "Now then, that should do nicely." She sits by Yuuri. “Yuuri, dear, I didn’t expect you to come back. You have to stay there, alright? No more coming back to Salem.” She unties his hands from the bed posts. “Here, take these to 2019 so they won’t think you’re mad, or so you can have these to remember them by, at least. But we have to hurry.” 

“What about the children?” Yuuri asks, taking the camera and photos from her.

“No time. Besides, that would dangerously affect the future.”

“But what about Charity? John is going to hurt her when he gets back, and I can’t- I can’t rest knowing that—“

“Yuuri, you are going to have to trust me. If you don’t go now, they’re going to kill you. Let me figure this situation out.” 

“I’m taking them with me. A-and if the little ones won’t come, then I’m still taking Charity.”  
  
Minako closes her eyes, as if she’s just seen a terrible vision. “I cannot stop you, but I—”   
  
“Come, Charity, we must hurry.”

***

Yuuri sets Lydia in front of the well. “Now, here’s the plan, children. I will go first. You must come down after me. Do not be afraid, for I’ll catch you, alright? And we will be safe soon enough.” Charity nods, but the younger two are tired and confused. And crying. “Shhh… listen…” Yuuri hisses, swinging his leg over the side of the well. “You must be brave for me. All three of you. Fear nothing…” He touches his son's face. "It's going to be alright."

He gives them one last look before plunging into the darkness of the well. Charity leans over the side and stares in wonder as the water starts to swirl. But she isn’t afraid. She sits on the edge, gulping. She holds his satchel for him. 

“That’s it, Charity, now jump!”

And she does. 

But someone catches her before she can make the plunge and drags her away.

The satchel tumbles down to Yuuri.

He can see nothing in the darkness, but he can hear his daughter screaming for him…

How long had he been following them for? Was he waiting for this moment, just to further torment Yuuri?

“I’ll come back for you, Charity! I swear it!” He shouts through the echoing well, but he’s unsure she can hear him. The water rises over his head, and he feels nothing more. 

* * *

November 30th, 2019

He knows from the moment he wakes up in 2019 that he needs to go back. But the well is sealed and no matter how hard he tries, it will not be opened. Minako told him it would be a bad thing for his children to come to the future with him, but how was it not a bad thing for himself to do the same? Or was he destined to die anyway at that time, and she’s just trying to make him avoid his death?

He stares at the plaque in front of the well. He notices something different about it, and takes a picture of that, too.

_This well was on the property purchased by local historians in 1958, who uncovered letters delivered down the well from a young girl to her mother, for unknown reasons. The girl, Charity Wilson, died in February of 1720 from pneumonia, at aged seven._

Yuuri, however, doesn’t know what it says, and wanders back to Victor’s home.

***

“I have no idea how to explain this, but…” Yuuko seats herself across from Detective Lee and gives him the folder filled with Yuuri’s pictures that afternoon. “He was out all night, and we couldn’t find him anywhere. Then he comes back, drenched, and gives us these, which were also wet.”

Detective Lee skims through the pictures. “Perhaps he fabricated the images. Perhaps they were taken a while ago.”

“He took them with a Polaroid he just got yesterday, though…”

Detective Lee sighs, waving around one of the wet pictures of the well.  “What do you want me to say, Mrs. Nishigori? Take this up with his psychiatrist or a historian. I have no explanation.”   
  
“He came home covered in bruises. And—” She points to the picture of John. “This is your guy. Just… keep an eye out for him, okay?”   
  
“Gotcha. John Wilson, huh? Approximately, oh, I don’t know, five-ten, three hundred and thirty nine years old? I’m  _ sure  _ we’ll find him.” He chuckles, moving his rolling chair to type something up on his desktop. "You know, you should put a tracker on him and see where he goes. Wouldn't be surprised if he's part of a cult with all the wackos I've been seeing recently."

She stands, taking the pictures back. "You aren't going to use these?"  
  
"I can't, unless you can prove to me that they're legit."

_Seriously_? “Detective Lee, if you aren’t committed to solving this case and helping my client, then I want someone else put on this case instead.” 

***

“Dr. Nikiforov, can I talk to you for a sec?” Phichit approaches his professor after class one morning in early December.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“So um… I was looking into the- the whole Temperance thing, again. And something weird happened.” He glances around to make sure no one is listening. “The Wiki page is gone. There’s not a single conspiracy theory about Temperance online, when there used to be dozen. All the videos are removed. And I went to the well this morning, and the plaque is literally different. There’s no picture, there’s no Charity. It just says it was found by historians, and that Charity died when she was seven.”

Victor nearly drops his papers. “ _Seven_ ? She died in 1792, so how—” And then it all comes back to him. Yuuri giving him the pictures, Yuuri locking himself in his room for days after Elle read him a particular passage he was confused about. Like this was his fault. _Yuuri isn’t lying._ “I’ll look into it. Thanks for bringing that to my attention.”

.

Victor drives home in a frenzy during his break in search of Yuuri. But then he remembers that he has an appointment until about 12:30, which Elle took him to. It’s only noon now, so there’s no point in waiting around for him. He’ll just have to take his usual office work home, or—

He could always call. He dials Yuuri’s number without another thought and leaves a message, asking Yuuri to call him as soon as his appointment is over.

He waits in his office until five minutes before his lecture starts, but doesn’t get a call until 2:30, right after he got back to his office.

“Hey, what’s…”

“Hello, Victor. I saw that you called and just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. I’m still at the doctor’s. Elle left me here and told me just to call her when I’m done.”

“I thought you were supposed to be done before one.”

“So did I. But then they saw the bruises and…”

“Freaked out?" Victor guesses. 

“Yeah. They’re trying to convince me to admit that this didn’t happen 300 years ago so they can get John. But it’s not possible. I keep telling them that.”

“I’ll try to leave the office before four. I’ll pick you up and explain everything.”

“Thank you.” There is a pause. “I do not know what to say. I suppose I’ll see you at four.”

“Hang in there.”

***

“Do you know what I think we should do this weekend?” Elle asks at dinner on Friday evening. It’s strange that she hasn’t left for her weekly trip to Boston by now, but Victor doesn’t feel like asking. “We should visit a tree farm!” 

“Mom, we don’t even celebrate until the 7th of January. The tree would probably be dead by then. Why don’t we set up a plastic one instead, in a few weeks?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like we’ve celebrated it at all like we did when Dad was alive.” Elle looks at Yuuri. “I bet you celebrated on the twenty-fifth of December, too?”

Yuuri thinks back to his childhood and smiles. “No, because Christmas is a Catholic holiday. John and most of Salem are Puritans and did not celebrate the holiday. But when I was young, my favorite winter celebration was _Oshogatsu_ , when we celebrate the new year.” 

“I’ve never heard of it. What do you do during that holiday?”

“It’s not so much a holiday as it is a festival…” Yuuri can picture himself as a child, sitting in the kitchen while his family hurried about to prepare the feast they were to have. The childlike excitement that came with the festival, him guessing how much money he was going to get from his relatives, the delicious food that came from his home country... 

And then a cloud came over the memory. For it was during the festival that he first met John…. and……

He looks up at the people who have taken him in, who have been so kind to him. He knows they deserve so much more than him. “I’m sorry, I don’t really want to talk about that.”

Elle gives him a sympathetic look for a moment. Then, she goes back to the original subject. “As I was saying, Victor, I’m going away after the twenty fifth and won’t be back until the tenth of January. So it makes sense that we celebrate with the rest of the Americans.” 

“It’s up to Yuuri.” Victor shrugs.

“Where will you be going, Elle?” Yuuri asks.

“Oh, I’m going to Russia to visit some family. Victor can’t go because of the intersession, or so he claims. I think it’s because he—“

“Never mind that, Mom…” he turns to Yuuri. “So how about it, Yuuri? We can go get a damn tree tomorrow with Mom. You can pick it out if you want.”

“Thank you, but… ‘tis best that I don’t show myself in public unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps the two of you could go together. You did say you hardly see each other.”

“Oh honey, you don’t have to worry about that. I can make you look good as new.” Elle says, but Yuuri shakes his head right away, adding, “It’s okay, I… I have a lot of laundry to do anyway. And I could clean the house for you two while you’re gone.”

***

 

They couldn’t persuade Yuuri to come, but Victor wasn’t giving up. After his mother went to bed, he decided to find Yuuri and clear the air, and perhaps by doing so, persuading him into coming tree shopping with them, because quite honestly he didn't want to go alone with his mother. 

Yuuri has just gotten out of the shower and wears only his underwear and a bathrobe. He’s bundled up under two blankets and stares at an infomercial on TV about a non-stick pot great for cooking. No matter what time period he's from, there's no way he finds this entertaining. 

“Hey,” Victor sits on the side of the bed. Yuuri rolls into his opposite side so Victor won’t see him.

Victor toes off his shoes and sits back against the headboard. “Infomercials, huh? Is nothing good on?”

Yuuri responds by burying himself even further down in the comforter.

“Have you gone through the music channels yet?” Victor switches to the Christmas music first. He’s met with the starting tune of _Silent Night._

“I’d really like to get some sleep now, Victor.”

“Before you do that, I just… I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For not believing you.”

Yuuri tenses.

“I’m not a skeptic. I just always try looking for a solution. It’s not like time travel is a thing around here. But looking back, how could it have been more obvious? And those pictures— you have beautiful children, by the way— just cemented it. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you from the start. I should have. And I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night, when you ran off. I’m the reason he hurt you again…”

“Don’t try blaming yourself for that, Victor. It’s fine. Now, goodnight.”

This is how Yuuri has been around him for days. What is he doing wrong?

And then he remembers the kiss Yuuri gave him on Yuuri’s birthday. _Oh, he's_ _embarrassed to be around me._

“Hey, I have a question, Yuuri.”

“Hmm?”

“What do you want me to be to you?”

Yuuri can think of a million things he might need in his life, but right now, all he needs is for Victor to be…“Yourself. Just be yourself.” Yuuri mumbles under the comforter, adding, “And I’m sorry I kissed you. I definitely overstepped my boundaries.” 

“I’m not sorry you did.” Victor rests his hand on Yuuri’s side. “And I do hope you come tomorrow. I’d be quite disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“I don’t know why I did it." Yuuri continues, "I do like you, but I’ve liked people before and never forced myself on them. I.. I suppose marrying so young destroyed my chance of knowing how romance actually works. And I hadn’t even asked how you felt about me, because I knew that whatever you felt wasn’t much. I stupidly thought that kissing you would awaken something in you and make you like me. I’m really stupid and I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me out.” 

“I like having you here, so don’t worry about that. And you’re not stupid. You’re just lonely, which is understandable. And I’m sure that you’ll date someone once you’re better, someone who can give you the world. That’s what you deserve.”

 _But I just want you_ ….

Victor didn't bring up Yuuri's kiss to his social worker, because he feels like that’s up to Yuuri to decide. Rather, he said he felt like it was hinted that Yuuri was attracted to him and asked what he should do.

She just said not to feed into it. It wasn’t good for Yuuri to become so dependent so quickly. But she also said it was completely normal. _“Yuuri’s not a child, and at his age he isn’t looking for a father-figure or a close sibling-like relationship. Odds are, he understands what he wants by this point and it’s only natural that he might seek an intimate relationship with whoever he can trust enough. He sees you as a man who is kind to him, and you’re handsome, and you were the only person to visit him. It makes sense, is all I’m saying.”_

* * *

1719

“Thank you for coming, Deacon Hobbs. It truly is an emergency.” Goody Wilson meets the deacon in front of her son’s home. “Temperance returned from hell and tried to drag my poor granddaughter down with him! And now she’s speaking in tongues!” 

The deacon gasps. “Dear God…”

“She participated in whatever unholy acts her mother did. She used this- this strange device to capture the soul of her father, and now we cannot find it! We fear it is too late for him, too…”

“Where is the girl?”

“She is inside. We’ve had to restrain her.” 

“I see.” The deacon steps through the front door and is instantly horrified at what he sees. A child shouldn’t be retrained the way she is, and any religious hierarchy who thinks so should be damned. It’s hard to keep up the act up as a deacon when "he" sees Charity being treated such a way. _I promised Yuuri I’d take care of things here. She will die in three months on this timeline. I must find a way to change this. What if I kill John, right here and now?_  

_But what if Deacon Hobbs wakes up and my plot is foiled… what if Yuuri comes back? I have to act fast…_

“Perhaps I should take her to the pastor. And perhaps some time in isolation will do her good.” suggests the deacon, who obviously is Minako in disguise.

“Do you think that she will be able to return to normal?” Asks Mem. “Deacon Hobbs” wants to stab her on sight.

“It’s hard to say. She may not be able to forgive—”  
  
“If she cannot be returned to normal, then don’t bring her back.” Says John. His parents protest, but it’s hard for “Deacon Hobbs” to hide his smile. “Very well. I will do everything I can.”

“What do you suppose is wrong with her? Do you think her mother put a spell on her?”  
  
It’s so hard not to groan at this. “I think it possible. But I cannot disclose anything until I have had time to study the situation. I will hurry and get her away before the neighbors wake up. Heaven forbid they hear about this disgrace.” Deacon Hobbs unties Charity, and the Wilson's strangely allow the girl to be taken away with no protest. Perhaps a little magic helped her out, or perhaps the people of Salem were that susceptible to obey whatever a religious figure instructed them to do.

 .

“So you really are a witch?” asks Charity once Minako has abandoned her cloak of the old, perverted deacon.

“Of course I am, but it’s not something I shout to the rooftops.” She says to her. They are on their way to Minako’s home.

“How old are you?”

“Quite young, actually. Only one hundred and thirty-nine.”

Charity gapes at her. “A hundred thirty nine? That sounds old…” 

“Well, how old would you say I look, Charity?”

“Hm… about my father’s age.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Minako unlocks the door and ushers Charity inside. The room is illuminated by a warm fire, and the home is surprisingly elegant despite its outward appearance. Charity sits on a fluffy sofa.

“I do a lot of traveling, myself.” She says, offering the girl a cup of tea. “As does your mother, now. I know you have a lot of questions, I have a lot to explain, and it’s a long story, but all you really need to know is that your mother has not died. He is in the future.”  
  
“The… what?”

“Three hundred years from now, where the world is much different. And we have to make sure he stays there, to keep him safe." 

“But he wanted us to go with him…”

Minako's heart aches, but she cannot show it. “I know, Charity. But you have a destiny to fulfill here. You’re going to marry someday, and have children of your own, who will have children, and so on. You’re the start of an important future. Without your descendants in the future, something… bad… will happen to a friend of your mother’s. Which is why it is important you stay here.”

Charity’s eyes fill with tears. She is truly too young to understand what is going on, the gravity of her life alone. The life that Minako has to save, somehow. And she has until February to do so. "Fear naught, child. You will be safe here and want for nothing. Soon, your siblings will join you if I can manage it. For now, I need you to trust me."

There is to be a terrible car accident in January of 2020. If Charity dies in 1720, someone in Yuuri’s life in the future will die long before their time. It was a Wilson descendant that is supposed to be a bystander and save the life of the victim. If there aren’t going to be any Wilson’s in the future…

_Stay where you are, Yuuri. Let me handle this before you make things far worse…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But Red!" you cry. "That's not how time traveling works!"
> 
> does it look like i'm a master of time traveling? nah. so here's how it works in this world basically:  
> Yuuri can time travel freely because he was destined to die on october 10th, 1719. it doesn't matter where he goes because his legacy was fulfilled and he had nothing more to do in the past. Minako, knowing that it was his death date, tried to change fate by opening the portal to 2019, under the assumption that he wouldn't come back to the past again and things in 1719 would continue on as planned. Because he returned, though, and involved Charity in the suspicions of witchcraft, her father began to treat her terribly and subjected her to horrible manual labor and so on that not even Yuuri could do alone. she tries following Yuuri down the well in February of 1720 while already sick, and that is why she dies of pneumonia. Her death erases dozens of people from history and causes the death of someone close to Yuuri in 2020 (not saying who). So Minako has to try and change things in the past if she can, and keep Yuuri away from the past.
> 
> (she isn't successful. he comes back a few more times)
> 
> now I know what you're thinking: BUT IF THE TIMELINE CHANGED HOW CAN PHICHIT AND VICTOR REMEMBER YUURI?  
> because Yuuri's still there and an active part of their lives. It's kind of like the mandela effect, I guess. When you're certain something was a certain way or spelled a certain way and then you look it up and it's totally different? + now everyone who isn't already familiar with Yuuri's story will think that this Temperance story is just crazy talk. 
> 
> ______
> 
> So a few notes:  
> 1\. I am trying to update twice a week. look for me somewhere around monday and friday. updates are gonna be between 4k-5k words I think.  
> 2\. yes, John actually called his daughter "chit" and didn't mean "shit". google defines chit as a young woman regarded with disapproval for her immaturity or lack of respect.  
> 3\. John is trash. But killing him might have consequences for the future, too. we'll see if yuuri gives a damn by the end.  
> 4\. now that we know time traveling exists in my fics, is it safe to assume all of my fics are linked? ;)  
> 5\. oh YEAH and another question I'd probably get is: why couldn't Yuuri read the plaque if he was shown being able to read a little in the first chapter? it's because he can't freakin' see. he needs glasses :)  
> ___________  
> Next time: Yuuri gets:  
> a) some glasses  
> b) another hospital visit  
> c) a kiss  
> (d) all of the above


	5. Salem, Massachusetts— December 7th-12th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor massages his temples. “So you’re moving in the spring, and I have until then to make sure Yuuri’s got his life back together and is able to have a career to provide for himself, an apartment, a car, a social security number…”
> 
> “It’s not up to you. Just have his social worker figure it out. Look, I really like him. But I can’t hold up my life to take care of him forever. I’m sorry. And who is going to pay all his bills? It can’t be us, Victor, that’s just too much.” Elle folds her arms, and both spare a glance towards Yuuri.
> 
> “We can’t just throw him out to fend for himself. That isn’t fair. We promised to take him in.”
> 
> “I didn’t promise anything. This was all you. So if he’s going to stay, it’s your responsibility to make sure he’s cared for.”
> 
> “Mom, what’s your problem? Seriously.”
> 
> “I can tell he likes you, and… I don’t think this is a good thing for us. What if this is all part of his plan. Seduce you and do something terrible—”

“There. I think you’re done!”

Yuuri nods, relieved that Elle was able to cover up the bruises on his face. She wonders if he’ll ask her to do it every time he goes out until they’re gone.

“You look charming today, you know. I can’t tell at all that the bruises were there.” She turns out the light in her room, but Yuuri waits at the mirror. “What else can you do with that stuff?” He asks.

She pauses. “Lots of things. Eh… women typically use it to accentuate their features. Some think it makes them look prettier. Some think it’s just fun…” she notices how Yuuri stares at himself and adds, “Men use it too, sometimes. Particularly in movies, but there are plenty that use it daily.”

“Could you… put a little more on me? I just want to see…”

“Sure! I know just the thing. Something simple, but always makes a difference.”

“I’m in your hands, Elle.”

All she does is use mascara on him. And he likes it. He even manages to smile a little.

.

The three of them walk through vast fields of trees that are only a little taller than Victor. The further they walk, the taller the trees get, but Elle points out that she’d like a small tree to save the mess. Yuuri leaves her to argue with her son and continues to wander deeper into the farm. He wants to find the perfect tree and knows that he’ll be able to sense it when he comes across it. It gets to a point, though, that he doesn’t know where he is anymore. _Oh well_ , he thinks, _this farm can’t go on forever. I’ll find my way back somehow._

“There’s no point in spending the money if you’re going to get a four foot tall tree, is all I’m saying.” Victor glances around and is surprised to discover he has lost Yuuri. “Yuuri?”

“He must’ve gotten bored of our bickering. I’m sure we’ll find him.” And so the two of them split up, agreeing that if they didn’t find him within fifteen minutes they’d meet up and call for help. Victor hopes it doesn’t have to come to that.

He walks straight for a good ten minutes and is just about to turn back when he sees Yuuri a bit further up, standing in front of a tree that must be nine feet tall, is very wide and full and bright green. Undoubtedly perfect for anyone who would like to tug it the entire way back to their car.

“Yuuri, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. There are plenty of good trees closer to the car.” Victor pants, but Yuuri’s determined. “I think this one is perfect. You have tall ceilings in the den, don’t you?”  
  
“Just barely tall enough for a tree this big…” Victor whistles. “Mom’s not going to agree.” He takes a picture of the tree and sends it to his mother, who replies with several crying emojis. That isn’t a no. And this is Yuuri’s first Christmas. “Fine. But you’ll have to help me carry it back.”

.

 

Victor has a worker help him strap the eight and a half foot tree to the top of his mother’s car, and then the three of them slip into the warm cafe for some drinks before their drive home. They all choose hot chocolate, a favorite of Elle’s. Yuuri’s on the fence about it, but drinks half of his mug as well as eating two sugar cookies.

“So, what would you like for Christmas, Yuuri? I plan on going next weekend to get the last of my shopping done.” Elle is sending a text message to someone on her phone, and Yuuri wonders how she is able to divide her attention like that.

Yuuri shrugs. “I don’t know what to ask for. It doesn’t seem right, seeing how much you’ve already done for me.”

“Nonsense.” She pats his arm. “Well, if you think of anything, you let me know.”

“What do… what do people usually ask for?”

“It depends on what types of things you’re into. When Victor was a teenager, he asked for a lot of music. Particularly the Backstreet Boys.”  
  
“Mom, I did not.”   
  
“You did so! And anyway, nowadays all he asks for are socks. He’s a boring man. I’d do anything to go back to that Christmas when I heard _I Want It That Way_ a dozen times. Now everything’s too quiet.”

Victor sinks his head in his arms, and Yuuri looks between the two of them in confusion. “Victor doesn’t like music anymore?”

“Victor doesn’t know what he likes. He spends too much time cooped up in his office.”

Yuuri studies how Victor’s face heats up and wonders why he changed so much.

***

That night, after Victor retreats to his home office upstairs on the excuse that he has to grade some exams, Yuuri falls asleep on the couch while Elle watches Christmas movies on the Hallmark channel.

When Victor comes downstairs for a drink later that night, his mother says to him, “I think we ought to talk about him.”

“I think so too.” Even though it’d only been a few weeks, Victor knew this was coming. The two of them sit at the kitchen table and watch Yuuri sleep on the couch.

“There’s got to be some long-term goal, realistically.” Says Elle, being careful with her words. “I know they don’t intend on keeping him here permanently. No one would ask such a thing.”

“I know.”

“I’m thinking about moving to Boston this spring. I don’t see why I shouldn’t, as I go there so often, it’s like I practically live there anyway. You can have the house. I don’t really care for it. But you don’t have the time to take him back and forth, and neither will I once I move. So…”  
  
“Where did all of this come from, Mom?”

“Well, you see, I’ve been seeing someone in Boston, for about six months now.”  
  
“Wow, okay. Thanks for telling me.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to! I just didn’t know how you’d take it. Besides, it wasn’t serious until recently.”  
  
Victor massages his temples. “So you’re moving in the spring, and I have until then to make sure Yuuri’s got his life back together and is able to have a career to provide for himself, an apartment, a car, a social security number…”

“It’s not up to you. Just have his social worker figure it out. Look, I really like him. But I can’t hold up my life to take care of him forever. I’m sorry. And who is going to pay all his bills? It can’t be us, Victor, that’s just too much.” Elle folds her arms. 

“We can’t just throw him out to fend for himself. That isn’t fair. We promised to take him in.”

“I didn’t promise anything. This was all you. So if he’s going to stay, it’s your responsibility to make sure he’s cared for.”

“Mom, what’s your problem? Seriously.”

“I can tell he likes you, and… I don’t think this is a good thing for us. What if this is all part of his plan. Seduce you and do something terrible—”  
  
“Mom, shut up right now. You don’t know anything about him. You’ve been so kind to him, and now— now you’re really going to turn on him??” Victor stands, with his hands gripping the back of his chair. "What, are you drunk?"

“How do you not see how attracted he is to you? That isn’t the environment he needs to be in to heal if he’s just gonna focus on you.”

“If that makes him happy, then so be it! I honestly don’t care.”

“Victor. If his social worker finds out that he has a crush on you, we could end up in serious trouble should you so much as smile at him after that. I think you should go ahead and tell her and get him off your hands before it’s too late.”

“What makes you think he likes me, anyway? He’s probably just being nice.” Obviously, Victor knows what she's talking about. But he doesn't want to expose Yuuri's secret like that. 

“Nice? Is it just being nice when he bats his eyes at you? When he’s always looking at you, no matter where we are? When he blushes when you talk to him?”

“Mom, I really think you’re overthinking—”  
  
“You’re just too oblivious. Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Just think about what I said. And what you’re unknowingly doing.”

The two of them go to their respective rooms, and Yuuri sits up on the couch. _She’s been so nice to me… why is she saying such things?_ As quietly as he can, he tiptoes to his bedroom, and then into its bathroom, and shuts the door. He undresses, climbs into the shower, and vigorously scrubs his face as hard as he can to try and remove as much of this stuff from his face as he can, til he’s met with the terrible bruises once more.

He knows he needs to go home. He didn’t realize how much of a burden he’s been on this family, and had he been able to predict this scenario, he never would’ve accepted coming here in the first place. It seems that he cannot do anything right.

After his shower, he changes into some sweatpants and a tee shirt, straightens his room, and goes upstairs to Victor’s home office, where he can hear him furiously typing away. He doesn’t have to knock. Victor sees him in the screen’s reflection and pauses.

“Victor…?”  
“Yes? I thought you were asleep.”   
  
Yuuri swallows. “I think it’s best that I go home.”

Victor spins around in his chair to look at him properly. “What do you mean? You shouldn’t want to go back home. Especially to a man like—”  
  
“What I came from does not matter. I’m not supposed to be here, and ‘tis now quite clear I’ve overstayed my welcome. You can tell Yuuko that I went home. And thank her for all she’s done. I know I’ve been a hassle.”

“Where’s all this coming from? We had a good day at the tree farm, we…”  
  
“I heard you and your mother.” Yuuri raises a hand to silence him. “Don’t worry, I understand where she’s coming from. She made me understand what I need to do. Besides, ‘tis best I am with my children. I have no use for being here.”

“Yuuri, I can’t let—”  
  
“You can’t stop me.” He smiles sadly. “It's alright, Victor. Thank you for everything.”

.

Victor calls Yuuko. He calls the police to meet Yuuri at the well. But by the time they get there, he’s gone without a trace. He doesn’t come back in the morning, and by then, there are stories about Temperance once again on the Internet. But they are far worse than before. A simple search of the name brings up these top webpages:

**What We Know About Temperance Wilson: The Colonial Era Mother Who Was Drowned By Her Own Husband In A Well**

**Is Witchcraft Legit? Theories Behind The Death of Temperance Wilson**

**Read All About the 1700s Time-traveler.**

Victor clicked the first article and read all about how “Temperance” was tortured for six days until being thrown down the well with a rope attached to his neck so he could not escape.

It became clear what Victor had to do, before it was too late. And he only had five days and negative three hundred years to do it.

But what was the best method to get to Yuuri? He didn’t know where he lived. Or where John was keeping him. Perhaps his best bet to finding out information was… he skimmed through the pictures Yuuri gave him and paused while looking at the picture of the oldest. _She might be able to help me._

This plan is crazy. It’s… insane. He shouldn’t be doing this.

But he dressed in slacks and plain dress shirt and walked down to the well. It is open, just as before. Like he’s supposed to save Yuuri.

_This is crazy… but I have to do this._

And so he jumps down, hoping he’s still a good swimmer.

* * *

 

Charity startles when she hears splashing coming from the bottom of the well. She peers over the side and _screams_ , which sends Minako running towards her. “What is it, Charity??” And then, seeing Victor, she groans. “Great. Just wonderful. What are you doing here, Victor Nikiforov?”

"Who is this, Minako?" Charity hides behind the woman.

"Charity, go back to the house. I will explain later." She rolls her eyes and helps Victor out of the well. 

He is sat on the ground and shivers in the cold. “To save Yuuri….”

“To save Yuuri, huh? And how were you going to do that? You don’t even know where he is.” She motions for him to follow her back to her home. “You could be killed.”

“It’s my fault he’s here.” He takes a moment to marvel at the architecture of Minako's home— and to process that this certainly isn't the Salem he's used to— before Minako tugs him inside.  
He nods when Charity offers him a thick quilt to wrap around his shoulders. “Thank you, miss.” He blinks. “You must be… Charity, right?”

“How did you know my name?” Charity dips her head and turns back to attending to their breakfast over the fire.

“Hm? Oh, Yuuri told me about you.”

“How….. did you meet my—”  
  
Minako hushes her. “Never mind that. Victor, you should go home. Let me handle the situation that you keep messing up. I’ll get Yuuri back to 2019, but I won’t let him come back again. This is getting ridiculous. He literally fell right into John’s trap.”   
  
“That’s my fault. He overheard me and my mother talking about him and got upset. He thought it would be best if he went back here.”

“And you just.. Let him.” She sighs deeply and turns to Charity. “Go on back to bed, little girl. ‘Tis too early for you to have to fret so much. I will finish breakfast and wake you when it's time.”

She shakes her head. “I must know, sir. Do you live with my mother?”

“Live with who, Yuuri? Yeah, I did.”

Her eyes widen. “So… he remarried, too?”  
  
“Why does everyone here seem to think that living with someone means that they’re married? Of course I didn’t marry him. We don’t know each other that well."

.

“J-John, please…” Yuuri begs, knelt with his hands tied behind his head. He hardly has the strength to stay on his knees, but he can't sink any lower. The pain is unbearable. He's surprised he hasn't fainted yet.

“Then tell me where you go to and show me where it is so I can make sure you don't go back.” John paces back and forth and around him, patting the butt of a whip against his hand. "Since you  _aren't_ dead, you're going somewhere. Being unfaithful, no doubt."

 

“I’ll never say. And- and _unfaithful_? When  _you_ are the one who remarried?!”

“Silence! If you do not tell me, then I’ll never stop. And I’ll bring Charity into this. I bet she’ll tell me. And if she doesn’t? Well…” he struck Yuuri’s back again with the whip and he cried out. “John, _stop it already!”_

“Yes, John, stop.” Mem speaks up from her chair by the fire. “I’m tired of watching this subtly sexual show. I know you’re getting off on it.” She stands, putting a hand on her hip. “Just kill him already so I can stop seeing your erection.”

“Come on, Mem. We need answers before we—”  
  
“He’s a _witch_! What more do we need to hear?!”

Someone knocks at the door, and John tells Mem to send whoever it is away. But it’s just Goody Wilson, here with dire news. Goody Wilson's eyes widen when she sees Yuuri tied the way he is, but she shakes her head and delivers her news, “Your father has fallen deathly ill. You must hurry, John.”

He glances back at Yuuri, who is probably not going anywhere in his weakened, tied up state. “Very well. Come, Mem. We must see to my father before he passes.”  
  
“But what if he escapes?” She ties on her cloak.

Sparing a final look to Yuuri’s weak form, he grins and says, “He won’t.”

The three of them leave the house, and not a moment later does someone step through the back door. “Jesus Christ…”

***

“It’ll be like a witchhunt to find him. You must make sure he doesn’t come back.” Minako is holding John’s youngest, who she managed to take from her grandmother’s backyard, with Charity at her side. “I will take care of the children, I swear it. But he needs to stay in 2019, are we clear on this?”

Victor nods solemnly. “I’ll take him to the hospital the moment we get back. And after that, I won’t let him near the well again.”  
  
“Good. Now, go on. I must hide these children before their father comes looking.”   
  
“Thank you for what you’re doing, ma’am.” Victor holds onto the rope that will guide him and Yuuri down the well. “I’m sure Yuuri appreciates it far more than he says.”

And with that, the two of them plunge down the well, and it seems all will be fine, until Lydia declares that it won’t be. Her and Minako stand near the edge of the well looking down, and Lydia suddenly decided she didn’t want to be held anymore. She pushed and scratched and bit Minako and used all her strength to get away from her. It is only when the three of them hear voices calling for Lydia that Minako startles and accidentally drops the child down the well.

* * *

“Just when I think it’s all calming down.” Detective Lee shuffles into his cluttered office to open up his file on Yuuri Katsuki to confirm the name of his youngest child that Yuuko showed him a picture of. Her arms are folded at the door and she looks almost smug. “Charity, John, and Lydia. For God’s sake.”

“They’re running a DNA test at the hospital, but it seems pretty obvious to me.” Yuuko sips from her cup of coffee.

Early this morning, a toddler was found off the campus of Salem State, by Temperance’s Well. She wore clothing very similar to what “Temperance” had come to them in, and after being taken to the hospital, the police took a chance by asking for a DNA test, as Yuuri had also been admitted this morning with terrible lashes on both his chest and back. They had not seen each other yet. The only thing they knew about the girl is that her name was “Lydia”, she had curly, dark brown hair and brown eyes, she can count to ten, and she “fell down”.

The following morning, the results are in, and she is 100% related to Yuuri, which makes their case even more difficult now. Yuuko decides that it is only fitting, once Lydia has been cleared, to let her visit with Yuuri. But it’s still unknown as to where she came from. Where both of them came from, despite Victor's chilling account of finding Yuuri in this state. Still, he has been unable to describe exactly where they went and is being oddly quiet.

Lydia holds the hand of Yuuri’s— and now her— social worker as they approach Yuuri’s hospital room. Yuuri’s doctor, Detective Lee, and Yuuko watch the girl’s immediate recognition of him, and Yuuri’s immediate look of absolute terror. “ _Lydia_ , how did you…”

The toddler starts to cry. She breaks free of Yuuko’s hold and runs to the bed, climbing onto it to hug him. It would seem they haven’t seen each other in a while. Yuuri cries too.

.

“So, now we have another displaced person. Another child to put in the system. And a humungous mystery to solve. Dr. Nikiforov…” Yuuko turns to him, sighing warily. “Will you take care of this child until Yuuri is released? He strongly expressed that he wants no one else to. We can get her enrolled in a daycare or preschool, so you wouldn’t have to worry about watching her…”

Victor thinks of his mother and what they had been arguing about just two days ago. She’d be furious if he came home with a little girl. But she’s moving to Boston, and he really doesn’t care.

“Give me an hour. I’ll need to go buy a reasonable carseat and something for her to wear. It’s cold out there today.”

***

It turns out, safely installing a carseat is not easy when you have no idea what you’re doing. Eventually, a very tired and bored security guard in the hospital parking lot shows him how, making him look very, very stupid. And then, the guard reminds him of where the buckle needs to be positioned and whatnot, reminding Victor of how little he knows. He has no cousins in this country, no siblings, no experience with children whatsoever. Yet he is taking on a three year old.

He bought clothes that he thought should fit, and Yuuko dresses her in one of the bathrooms on the main floor. The shoes miraculously fit, and the shirt is just a little bit loose on her. She appears very snug in her purple-snowflaked white jacket and doesn’t fight Victor when he takes her from the social worker. “Just keep her on the schedule we talked about. Are you sure you have everything worked out with the daycare on your campus?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s fine. And don’t worry about the cost right now. You have enough on your plate.”

And with that, the two of them disappear into the parking lot.

Lydia is hesitant to get into his car, but complies once he shows her the car TV that he’d been pressured into buying by a very happy employee at the children’s store. “I… don’t think you’ve ever watched anything on this before, but I’m told all children like _Elmo_ , so…”

Once the episode starts, she is hypnotized by the screen and says nothing for the ride. He is almost home when he realizes that his mother is most likely home and will have a freak out if she sees this little girl, so he decides to make a detour. “Are you hungry, Lydia?”

“Yes.”

Yuuko warned him that if— _if_ — Lydia was from 300 years ago, a modern American diet would probably upset her tummy. _So no fast food, for now_ . _Start with dinners that are easy on her stomach._

“I want that one.” She points to a restaurant that has a playground inside of it.

“Alright, we’ll go there.”

Lydia does fine with eating and eats nearly everything she’s given. He learns that she really likes apple juice, as she has three cups of that. _I’ll need to go grocery shopping._

While she eats her dessert, Victor stares at photographs of historic Salem and shakes his head in disbelief.  _There is no way that well is a portal to 1719. No goddamn way..._ and yet, when he looks up at the toddler across from him, he is reminded that there is a way, because she is here.

.

When he gets her settled for bed, she starts to get upset and asks for her parents, her sister, her grandmother… anyone she can think of. He tells her that she will see Yuuri tomorrow, but that means nothing to her.

She stays in Yuuri's bed and watches _Sesame Street_ until she falls asleep.

He has groceries delivered in the morning and makes breakfast for her. It’s strange, Lydia doesn’t seem to have any problems with adjusting to the twenty-first century. She isn’t afraid of electricity or cars like Yuuri was, and simply shrugs it off as if she’s used to it. Victor bought a booster seat for the table last night in his frenzy, and she appreciates being able to actually reach her breakfast of oatmeal, strawberries, some very basic cereal, and juice.

“Now Lydia,” Victor sits across from her with an apple. “Today, you’re going to go play with some other children for a few hours while I do my work. Afterwards, we’ll go visit your mother at the hospital. He might be able to come home tomorrow. Does that sound nice?”

“Yes.” She sips from her juicebox and only spills a little on her pajamas. “But Father will be mad ‘cause you took me. He’ll hurt you.”

“No he won’t, Lydia. Don’t you worry about him, okay?”

***

Phichit is mulling through the cold air on his way to his math final— _why_ did it have to be scheduled for nine-fucking-o’clock-in-the-fucking-morning— when he notices his history professor, who he has a final with later today. Apparently, a substitute had to administer his final exam in his Monday class because of an emergency, and he was in trouble with his boss.

“Hey, Dr. Nikiforov,” Phichit calls, nearly dropping his coffee when he notices the little girl walking beside him. “Is this your niece or something?”

“Just a friend of mine’s kid. They’re in the hospital and needed someone to watch her. I couldn’t refuse. This is Lydia.” Victor says cheerfully, motioning to the little girl.

“Hi Lydia,” Phichit waves to the girl. She hides behind Victor’s leg. “She’s adorable. Look at those curls!”

Victor smiles. She _is_ rather cute. “She’s uh… got a cute parent who can take credit for all this.”

Phichit gives him a smirk. “A friend of yours, you say? Mmhmm… well, I’ll see you at noon for our final, Dr. V!”  


***

Yuuri is released from the hospital that evening instead of the following morning, with stitches, ibuprofen, and a lot of prescribed rest. All of his appointments for the week were cancelled.

On the ride home, Yuuri wonders how much history has changed because of her presence. But Victor chimes in that while he was doing research on Temperance some weeks ago for Yuuri’s social worker, that Lydia never had any children nor did she marry. So, unlike her sister, her being here wasn’t going to end anyone’s lives, as far as they knew. Still, it felt wrong only having one child with him.

And then, he thanks Victor profusely for what he’s done for them, and mentions that Yuuko said she’d start looking into a shelter for the two of them so Victor wouldn’t have to be burdened by them anymore.

They have just stopped at a red light, and Victor looks as if he’s been slapped. “Burdened? No, of course not! _Yuuri_ , you mean so much to me, and life would be incredibly boring without you, as it always has been! I like having you here!”

Yuuri blushes, but he cannot look away, nor can he say anything at all. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, it’s just that he…

He finds himself gravitating towards Victor, almost naturally, and Victor’s doing the same, and he closes his eyes and…

_Honk!_

And just like that, Victor’s driving as if nothing happened. But it stays on Yuuri’s mind for the rest of the evening.

They have a simple supper, Yuuri gives his daughter a bath and combs out her unruly hair while Victor prepares her pajamas. She’ll be sleeping in Yuuri’s bed, once again, because they aren’t sure about their long-term goals.

She falls asleep after an episode of _Peppa Pig_ , which Yuuri hates, and then it’s just the two of them sitting on the bed in silence. “Victor, I… I know I said it earlier, but I just wanted to remind you how much it means to me, what you’ve been doing. And I have every intention of paying you back for all this, someday. Once I’m out on my own, especially, I’ll pay back every cent you’ve spent on Lydia and me.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. I like being able to use my money on something besides groceries and rent. My life was very boring before. I wondered how much longer I’d be able to continue on as I was, and then I found you.” He brushes a finger against Yuuri’s cheek. “My mom’s moving to Boston, so we’ll have a bit more space in the house for you and Lydia. We could buy her a furniture set of her own.”

“Now I’ll have even more to pay you back for.” Yuuri rolls his eyes playfully and slips out of bed.

“Where are you going?”  
  
“Just to get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“Ah… I’ll come with you.”

They don’t make it to the kitchen. For once they step into the dim light of the hallway, neither walk a step further. For a few moments, they just look at each other. And then, someone breaks, I don’t know who, and Victor is kissing him. It is brief, but once Yuuri has gone to bed, his heart is so happy that his eyes fill to the brim with tears. 

When Victor pulls back, he looks a little embarrassed, and quickly explains his actions. "Yuuri, I— when I saw you in your house like that, after seeing what he did to you, I just didn't know what to do. I'd never felt so angry in my entire life. Nor so worried. I'm just...  _so_ glad that you're going to be okay. And that you're safe now... so... that's all..."

***

Elle wakes up later than usual on Wednesday morning, because she’s feeling a bit under the weather. And she hears something peculiar coming from downstairs: a child’s laughter.

She puts on her warm robe and hurries downstairs to see if she’s hearing things, but no, there is a curly haired little girl seated at her kitchen table with Yuuri, and she can clearly see that they are related.

_No, no, we’re not doing this._

“Excuse me.” She clears her throat, and Yuuri looks fearful. “Who’s this?”

“T-This is my daughter, Lydia.”  
  
“And how’d she get here?” She folds her arms. “Where’s Victor? We talked about this, so why is he…”   
  
“He had to go to work early for a final. I hope you don’t mind her.” Yuuri stands and quickly clears their dishes from the table, back turned as he starts washing them in the sink. 

She doesn’t look happy at all. This isn’t at all like her. “We agreed to take one person in. Not a person and their kid. And what’s next, your other two? _John_ ? Yuuri, you aren’t bringing in any income. None of us have the money to pay for daycare and another mouth to feed, and what, I suppose she’ll have special appointments to? Lord.” She opens the fridge. “How long is she staying for?”   
  
“Well… we’re working things out right now.” Yuuri’s voice feels tight in his throat. After all the kindness she’d given him, he didn’t expect this kind of reaction from her. What did he do wrong? "If everything goes as planned, we- we should be out of here in January." He puts the dishes in the washer and swallows the lump in his throat.

“I’m staying home today, but I’m not taking you two anywhere. I don’t feel well.” She takes an orange from one of the drawers. “Keep her quiet, please.”

Yuuri nods. He already had plans for today, so he isn’t overly concerned. Of course, those plans were originally to get some rest and let Lydia wander around his room, but realizing how antsy she is in this new house, he found a park nearby and decided they’d take the bus to it. Victor left Yuuri some money for this, and for lunch.

And so, after Elle went back to bed, Yuuri got his daughter and himself dressed and went to the nearest bus stop, just outside this neighborhood. Lydia sits on his lap on the bench and waits with him. “Are we gonna live here now?”

“I don’t know, Lydia. I imagine you want to go home to Father and Grandmother.” The bus is approaching, and Yuuri stands, hoisting her up onto his hip.

“No. He mean. He hurt Charity and my brother! But not me.”

“What do you mean, he hurt them?” Yuuri drops the dollar in the box, and the two of them sit at the front of the bus.

“He get mad, ‘cause him and Memmie fight. ‘Bout you. And then he get mad at them for nothing!”

“I see.”

_I wish the two of us could forget, Lydia. Because the longer I think about my poor children, the more intensely I want to go back to save them. And if I can't save them, at least I could be with them...._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iiiiiii waaaaaant iiiiiit thaaaaaaaat waaaaay~~~~
> 
> Hi! I couldn't update earlier this week because I was dealing with some school problems, yay~  
> I'll probably post the next chapter on Tuesday? We'll see. 
> 
> I bet none of you predicted (or wanted) Yuuri's youngest to show up in the future, but she's here. Arguably, she never really had any flaws to begin with, she was just a bratty toddler who preferred the relatives who spoiled her. And while Lydia never had any children, her being in the future presumably does affect some things. The problem is, how could they possibly ~safely~ send her back to the past? Yikes yikes yikes.
> 
> Next time: Yuuri gets glasses. Him and Victor get closer as we get closer to Christmas. Meanwhile, behind the scene, Yuuko and Detective Lee are stressed beyond belief trying to figure out what to do about the people that continue popping up out of a well.


	6. December 13th-15th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not being able to express who you are… why, ‘tis the worst feeling ever.” Yuuri looks at him. “I’m not a Christian, or a… a Puritan, like they were back home. I did not believe in anything they said. I didn’t want to pray their prayers or attend their church services, but to survive, I had no choice. Before I came to this country, while I was in England, I was baptized as Temperance. I didn’t want it. I felt… violated. Being given a new name that I didn’t choose, when I was so proud of the name my parents gave me.”
> 
> “Temperance is quite ugly. I don’t see why they had to give you a whole new name.”
> 
> “Because they wanted me to be Christian, and Yuuri is not a good Christian, British name. It’s a Japanese name and they wanted me to forget who I was, where I came from. And that kind of reminds me of your mother. She wanted you to be a version of yourself that she created, not your true self.”

“Hey, you,” Yuuko meets Yuuri at the nearby park so they can talk about his situation. They sit on a rather uncomfortable bench while Yuuri watches Lydia run around the playground. “How are we doing?”

“We’re fine…” Yuuri says without taking his eyes off his daughter.  He can see so much better now that his prescription glasses came in. He went for an eye test a few weeks ago, but there were problems with billing, and basically they wouldn't make the glasses unless they had someone who'd pay for it. Yuuri didn't know this, but Victor paid for them in full. They finally went to get them early this morning, and it's like seeing the world in a different way. Lydia thinks that him wearing glasses makes him look like her grandmother. Yuuri's going to pretend he didn't hear that. But anyway, his eye test was just the first of many tests he's going to endure. Next will likely be dental, then a physical, and possibly an STD test. Fun. “Just problems with Elle, the usual. She’s really upset that I brought my daughter into this. Talking about how they can’t afford another person, and all that…”

“It’s really not your fault. And… I think it’s better that Lydia’s here, instead of with her father.”

“I know that. She doesn’t care. So… I had to promise her that Lydia and I were planning on going elsewhere, as soon as possible.”  
  
“And I suppose that’s where I come in?” Yuuko fishes into her bag and pulls out a clipboard. “We do have a few options, and I’m still working with my stubborn, rude friends in the good old government to get you going. Right now, our easiest option is to get you a passport, because you can’t get any identification if you don’t have one. And in order to get a passport, we’ll need a Letter of No Record, among other things, which I’ve already got in the process. I just told them you were born in Massachusetts, because if I said Japan…”  
  
“I’d be sent back.”

“Right. Hopefully, that gets approved. And if you eventually have a passport, we may be able to have you apply for some benefits. Including housing…”

“And what about Lydia?”

“Eh… let’s just do this one step at a time, OK?” She chuckles. “But I’m not sure if I can get all this done by January, if she’s really going to kick you out. Have you discussed this with Victor?”

“Yes. He said he’d do what he could, but he doesn’t own the house.”

“I figured. Well anyway, worst case scenario, you go to a shelter. The problem is, family shelters are for women and children only.”

Yuuri's eyes widen as he realizes what she's implying.“So I couldn’t be with Lydia? They’d take her from me…?”  
  
“Well… not necessarily, if we could prove that you’re…”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Yuuko's making a face that usually means she's about to say something embarrassing.“You see, you claim Lydia has a second father. John, of course. And you tell me that you’re the one that gave birth to her…” She says slowly.

“You’d need me to prove I did and identify as a woman from hereon out.” Yuuri says in a low voice, face flushing. _I do NOT want to do that…_

“Yeah. Uh, that’s _only_ if you really do become displaced before we can get you your benefits. So, don’t worry too much, just yet.”

“I have no choice but to get on Elle’s good side before then.”

“Look! I found a bug!” Lydia has crept up on them and shoves a very creepy bug in Yuuri’s face. He yelps. “Ah, that’s… lovely, Lydia! Wh-Why don’t you put it back now?”

***

“And that’s everything she told me.” Yuuri says after Lydia has been put to bed, and it’s just him and Victor in the den. “So if I can’t get my benefits before January, I have to pretend I am a woman and identify as one after getting an embarrassing examination by some strange man.”

“That’s terrible. You shouldn’t have to go through any of this.” Victor turns off the TV, and the room is now dark, save for the Christmas tree lights. Yuuri sits closer to Victor and rests his head on his shoulder, sighing sadly. “And you shouldn’t have to deal with us, either.”

“Never mind that.” Victor slides his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. “If my mom kicks you out in January, I’ll go with you. We can live in a hotel or something until I can get an apartment rented.”

“An apartment… just for me? No, no way. I couldn’t ask you to do something like that.”

“I don’t see why not, if I’d be living with you.”

“Oh…” Yuuri bites his lip. “Well, I…”

“Only reason I hadn’t moved already was because I didn’t want to live alone. But now… I definitely can afford it. Most of my income has gone to savings, anyway.”

“But living with me and Lydia? You’ve barely known me two months. I… I don’t think that’d look good for you.”

“We won’t be sharing a room, so I don’t see a problem with it. It’s just like now, minus my mother.”

“Well, I guess that would be alright. But wouldn’t it take awhile to find an apartment?”

“Not necessarily. A lot of places are move-in ready. For me, it just depends on the location. Someplace that’s safe for Lydia and fairly close to a preschool.”

Yuuri nods, “You seem to be thinking quite long-term.”

“Why not? I’m not that young and it’s probably better for me to stay in one place.” Victor won't say this aloud, but internally he adds that he feels more relaxed and at home with Lydia and Yuuri than he has with his own family at any point in his life. He has no hesitations about living alone with Yuuri, now that he knows where he's from.

“And, why an apartment instead of a house?”

“I like apartments. Smaller space, less to look after, less expensive and benefits like a pool, a gym…”

“I don’t really understand most of that, but okay.”

“It’s better than living in a shelter, trust me.”

“Well, Victor,  I’m grateful for all you’re doing, and if you don’t want to move, then that’s alright, too, and—“

Victor kisses his cheek. “I’m off to bed. Will you meet me tomorrow for lunch? Lydia too, of course.”

“We’ll be there.”

***

Yuuri dresses Lydia warmly in her snow jacket and some cute white snow boots, her hair in pigtails. Yuuri pays for the bus fair and stays on until they arrive at Salem State. She stomps through the snow all the way to the big cafeteria where they are meeting Victor.

He sends Yuuri a message saying he’ll be a few minutes late, and to go ahead and get their food. Yuuri decides that he'll share whatever Lydia picks out. She chooses chicken tenders and waffle fries, and about three different types of sauces.

“You’re not going to eat all of this.” Yuuri shakes his head while he waits for Lydia to pick out a drink.

“It smells yummy.” She chooses a green drink that doesn’t look natural in how it almost seems to glow.

“I hope it tastes just as well, because odds are I’ll be eating more than half.” Yuuri puts Lydia’s tray up by the register and pays. “You’ve eaten so much as of late. You must be growing.”

“I like the food here!” She says, hugging his leg. “Do you not?”

“It’s alright. But everything is so greasy.”

They sit at a table by the window and wait a few minutes for Victor to join them.

“Do you like Victor?” She asks, dipping one of her fries into ketchup. She asks this as if it's no big deal, but to Yuuri, it's huge.

“He is very kind.” Yuuri says casually.

“Very pretty, too. Is he my father now? A new one?"

“Now, Lydia…” Yuuri shuts up when he notices Victor walking towards them. But Lydia doesn’t.

“Hiiiii Victor!!!” She calls, holding up one of the fries. “This is so yummy! Want one?”

“I’ve got my own!” He sits beside her, motioning to the waffle fries. “These are the best, aren’t they?”

She takes one of his, and Yuuri chides her for it. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad we found something she really likes.”

Yuuri nods, heat rising to his face. "So... um... how has your day been?"  
  
"Can't complain. My students are eager to get their classes over with so they can go home, so they're a little snappier than usual, my colleagues, too. But it's alright."

"Your break surely doesn't begin so soon, does it?"  
  
Victor scoffs. "Not anywhere near theirs. I have to grade all the paper finals, the essays, some are research and upper-level, fifteen pages long... and then I have to submit dozens of final grades, catch up on grading anything I missed in my online courses, calculate attendance grades, too and—"  
  
"I could never do what you do." Yuuri stops him with a laugh. "That's too much! You need an assistant!"  
  
"That's what we use the graduates for," He jokes, and their conversation comes to a screeching halt when he notices the head of the history department  Dr. Shippens, approaching him. And she means business, for she calls him out right away.

“There you are! When I didn’t see you in your office I thought you must’ve left campus!”

Victor rolls his eyes, and Yuuri looks at the woman walking towards them. “Who’s this? A student?” She nods towards Yuuri.

“This is my...friend, Yuuri, and his daughter Lydia. Yuuri, this is my boss, the head of the history department, Dr. Shippens.”

“Hi.” Yuuri tips his head.

“Hello! Now, Victor, we need to talk. I got complaints about Monday. And we need to address that.”

“You told me not to worry about it Monday when I called in, and Wednesday when we spoke.”

“That’s just because I had students around. Can you come to my office after your break, please?” She smiles at Yuuri. “Just so you know, there’s still time to enroll for the spring semester! We have a high acceptance rate, and until next Monday the application fee is waived!”

Yuuri nods politely, but he feels too badly to admit that he can hardly read English and all that…

And then, they’re left alone to eat. “You’re in trouble because of us, right?”

"Do you need a time-out?" Lydia adds. She now has the mysterious green drink all around her mouth.

“… But it’s just plain stupid. It was an emergency. And it’s not like they couldn’t take their finals. Nobody did poorly. Who the hell would complain on me?"

“I suppose you are seen as very reliable.” Yuuri says.

“I _am_ reliable. One day off in the two years I’ve been a professor, in the five years I’ve worked here, it’s a little ridiculous.”

“It is. Why don’t you tell her that?”

“Because she’s my boss.” He rests his fist against his cheek. “But worry about it, Yuuri. I won’t be fired or anything like that.”

“Right..” Yuuri feels his phone vibrating and quickly answers once he sees who’s calling. _So much for actually having lunch together!_ “Yuuko?”

"Hi Yuuri. Do you have a minute?" Yuuko sounds cheerful, as usual, and Yuuri wonders if keeping up that tone gets tiring after a while.

“Yes, is everything alright?”

"So I was able to get in contact with some people, and tomorrow we’re going to go and try to get that Letter of No Record."

“That’s… that’s great!” Yuuri gets a strange look from Lydia, but she soon goes back to eating her lunch.

"Right? Fingers crossed. I’ll be there at about eight tomorrow morning, okay? We have to go to Boston for this."

“Thank you so much.”

"No problem, Yuuri! I’ll see you tomorrow."

***

“Hey…” Phichit catches up to Temperance— er… Yuuri, after a meeting of the film club that afternoon. And he’s with Lydia, which really isn’t shocking. He knew who Lydia was related to all along, because Dr. Nikiforov didn't have any friends. “I’ve been meaning to check in on you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Yuuri says softly. He picks up his daughter, like he's afraid.

“No, we have, just… not properly. Um… my friend Leo and I are the ones that found you at the well.”

Yuuri furrows his brow for a moment, then nods. “Yes. You were screaming and running.”

“We were looking for help, but you did scare us.” Phichit admits. “Ah, anyway, how are you doing?”

“Not very well, but I’ll be alright. Do you think you passed your exam with Victor?”  
  
“Probably not, but I haven’t been trying very hard. I’m probably just gonna drop out and be a stripper.”

“A stripper…? What is—”  
  
“Oh, you don’t want to know.”  
  
“No, I do.”  
  
Phichit tries not to laugh as he explains exactly what a stripper is. “And anyway, that’ll probably make more money than teaching theatre.”

“Unfortunately, I could never be a stripper. If I could dance, I would.” Yuuri says with a straight face. “‘Tis hard. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be working on with all these appointments every week. The bottom line is that Victor’s mother wants me out and I need some way of providing for my daughter. But I have no skills. No education. No… social security number, whatever that is. Not even my social worker knows what to do.”

“That seems tough. But wait, are you saying Victor actually still lives with his mom? Oh my god.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That should solve the problem. All he has to do is get his own place, and you can live with him there, no issues.” Phichit glances at his phone. “I gotta go, I’m leaving tonight to go home to Thailand for the holidays. Good luck, Yuuri!”

.

During Lydia’s nap that afternoon, Yuuri cleans his room and bathroom using awful smelling chemicals that do the trick. He then moves to the kitchen, but Elle’s there, and so he retreats back into his room and hides out until the early evening. He gives Lydia a bath, does her hair, they watch a movie, and Victor comes not a moment too soon. After he and his mother exchange words and she leaves, Victor slips into Yuuri’s bedroom. “Hi there, you two. I think we should have spaghetti for dinner. Who wants to help me?"

“I do!” Lydia climbs off the bed and rushes out the door, Victor in tow.

The three of them work together to make dinner; Lydia stirs the noodles while Victor cooks the meat, and Yuuri sets the table and prepares the sauce and sets the table.

Lydia is very happy to eat the spaghetti, and makes quite a mess of it. Yuuri is quiet, but he seems to be enjoying the interaction between Lydia and Victor.

.

“You know, Lydia was never this well behaved back home.” Yuuri says after dinner, once Lydia has gone to play and Victor and him are cleaning up their meal. “Tantrums and screaming and causing trouble, she was a little devil all the time. She’s like a different child.”

“I guess she enjoys all the attention.” Victor chuckles.

“It’s more than that. And I don’t know why. I worry she was terribly mistreated at home. Abused…”

“Do you have any proof?”

“Well, we didn’t bathe much back home. But she was very, very dirty. The tub water was brown. Her hair was so matted I thought I’d have to cut it. She had a diaper rash.”

“Who takes care of her when you’re not around?” Victor finds himself scrubbing a plate a little too hard.

“I’d think her grandmother would… but I don’t see why she didn’t.”

“Then I’m glad she’s here. And I think she is, too. We just have to make sure she doesn't go back.

***

Victor puts Lydia to bed so that he can shower and get himself ready for tomorrow. Because tomorrow is a big day. A step forward… and…

“Hey, Yuuri? Lydia says she forgot to brush her teeth.” Victor is standing at the bathroom door, interrupting his thoughts with a brand new set of ideas.

“She did, I was with her. She doesn’t want to go to bed.”

“Oh, sorry.”

A thought comes to him. “Say, could you come in here for a moment?”

“Sure.” It's funny to Yuuri that Victor didn't hesitate at all to come into the bathroom where Yuuri is currently naked behind a curtain.

Yuuri opens the curtain slightly. “Ah, I have a question about this… this soap.” Yuuri picks up a random bottle. “You know I struggle to read. And I know that one of these bottles is supposed to come before the other. Which one is it?”

“Oh, have you been using this one first?” Victor takes the bottle from him. “This is conditioner. This one comes second, and you’re supposed to let it sit for a few minutes.”

“Oh. I had no idea.” Yuuri blushes, turning around to grab the shampoo. Victor averts his eyes. “And maybe… maybe I’m not scrubbing right? My hair always looks messy.”

“Do you… want me to help you?”  
  
“Please?”

“Okay, I can do that.” Victor pours the shampoo into his hands and runs them through Yuuri’s hair, till he’s well coated. “Now you can rinse this.”

“Thank you.” He turns around, so his back is facing Victor, and quickly rinses his hair. “Victor, I noticed something strange about this shower.”

“What?”

“‘Tis quite too big for one person. Why is that?”

“That’s because…” Victor leans his head in and looks around. “Your room used to be my parents’ room.”

Yuuri pours the conditioner into his hand. “I assume your father passed.”

“Yes, about twelve years ago. I had just graduated high school. He missed that; he had been sick for a long time. For weeks, he hadn’t left his bed.” He pauses. “Of course, you’re not sleeping in the bed my father died in, we don’t have that anymore.”

“Oh.” Yuuri starts to scrub the conditioner into his hair. “That was… much more sad of an answer than I thought. I’m sorry, Victor. I didn’t mean to bring up something that causes you pain.”

“It’s alright. I… don’t know why I told you all that, anyway. I guess I haven’t talked about it in so long, I was tired of keeping it in.”

Yuuri gives him a sympathetic look and brushes Victor’s bangs away from his face, ignoring the fact that he’s getting him wet. “You don’t talk much. To anyone. Why is that?”

He looks taken aback by Yuuri’s question, but his response is straightforward. “I spent so much time studying, getting ready for my career and all that, even at a young age, that I missed out on a lot of social situations in my youth. By the time I graduated and had a bit of free time, I realized everyone else my age already had friends, tons of them, and significant others and wonderful social lives— and if they don’t now, surely they did then. I felt so ostracized, and I thought, why bother trying to do things now that people already did years ago? I may have gotten far ahead in school, but I was years behind them on everything else. So… I buried myself in my work to keep busy and distracted, and that’s.. that’s why….”

Yuuri’s heart hurts, and he doesn’t care how soaking wet he is. He leans in to Victor and hugs him tightly. Because he understands what it’s like to be alone. And… “You aren’t alone anymore.”

Victor actually hugs him back, and when the two of them look at each other, they kiss again.  It’s only their doing so second time, but two times are enough for Yuuri to wonder if they really are just friends. Or… if this is what friends do in the 21st century. Because if so….

As Victor deepens their kiss Yurui realizes, no, friends don’t hold each other like this. Friends don’t kiss for this long. Or kiss like this…

 _Knock knock. “_ Yuuri? Are you still in the shower?”  _Elle._

Both freeze, noticing that the door is unlocked.

“Uh… yes…?”

“Well, it’s been long enough, and you’re using up the hot water. I wanted to shower, too, you know, and the one upstairs isn’t working.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s clogged!”

Victor covers his mouth. He’s trying not to laugh. How are they going to explain this?

“Um… could you give me a few minutes to dress and get ready for bed? And I’ll let you know when I’m finished?”

“Oh, I suppose. Just don’t take too long.”

“Uh-huh… thank you!” Both listen for her footsteps to leave Yuuri’s room and then breathe a sigh of relief. “How am I going to get you out of here?”

“The window?” Victor suggests while removing his soaked shirt. “I’ll wrap a towel around my shoulders, come through the front door and grab another shirt from the laundry room.”

“It’s freezing outside. How about….” Yuuri grabs his towel and wraps it round his waist, “You wear one of my shirts and escape to your room? I have some oversized ones.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Okay.” Victor grabs a towel to wrap around his shoulders and goes into the bedroom. Lydia’s sound asleep, so Victor turns off the TV. He fishes through Yuuri’s belongings and finds the largest shirt to put on. He then slips out of the room and hurries upstairs to change into something comfortable, but is stopped by his mother on the stairs. “Where were you? I couldn’t find you.”  
  
“Outside.” He says without thinking of anything to elaborate on.

“Why would you be outside without a jacket?”  
  
“I forgot something in my car.” He shuffles past her.

“Mmm… well, is Yuuri done with his shower?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“You were in there.”

“Was I, Mom?” Victor passes her and changes into his pajamas.

“I heard you talking.”

“Why were you snooping around? Maybe he was on the phone with me.”

She stands at his door. “I want him out within the week.”

“What the hell—“

“And that’s that. He can live on the side of the road for all I care.”

“Mom, I’m tired of hearing you talk about him like he’s just some bum mooching off us. Like you’ve forgotten where he’s from, and what he’s going through! He needs us!”

“Now Victor—“

“You aren’t spending a dime on them. _I_ am! And I want to! It’s my money, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want with it!”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. But when I told you I thought you should start dating, this is _not_ what I meant. At all.” She walks into his room with him and closes the door. “I’m having a party this weekend. Relatives are coming as well as some friends. I don’t want him here during it.”

“And why not? Surely you’d allow me to bring a guest.”

“I just want things to go smoothly. What happens if people ask him where he’s from? ‘ _Oh, I’m from the 1700s and I fell down a well to get here!_ ’ I mean, _imagine_ what people are going to think! Not only of that, but of you! You've never brought a guest before, and the  _one_ time you do, it's—"

“Who cares what people think? Why do you care so much now, when you were completely on board before?”

“I thought he’d be a naive, temporary guest, not a permanent resident and your live-in boyfriend. That’s why.”

“Are you coming out as homophobic, Mom?” Victor puts on his shoes.

“No, just— where are you going?”

“I’m tired of hearing your complaining for someone who does nothing but good for us. And I’m not going to take it tonight.”

“So you’re just going to leave? What did I do?”

Victor shakes his head. “Enjoy a quiet house, but I think we both know that silence has never done the two of us any good.” He goes back downstairs with an overnight bag, and Elle does not follow.

Yuuri is waiting on his bed, and gives Victor a concerned look when he comes in his room. “What did she—“

“Come on. We’re leaving for the night. Maybe we’ll have to find an apartment sooner than I thought.”

“I’ll have to tell Yuuko where to pick me up from. Tomorrow we have to—“

“You can call her in the car. I’m sure she won’t mind. If she doesn’t answer, leave a message.”

“Okay…” Yuuri gathers his and Lydia’s clothes for tomorrow, puts on his shoes, and Victor puts Lydia’s coat on her (which she isn’t happy about). They leave within the next few minutes.

.

  
Victor takes them to a hotel near the university and, while understanding the lack of space, asks for a room with two beds. They manage to secure a room on the bottom floor, at the very end of the hallway.

Lydia goes to sleep quite easily, grumpy from being waken the first time. Yuuri sits on the couch, unsure of what exactly they are doing here. And then Victor sits beside him. “My mom… I just got tired of what she was saying. I don’t know why I snapped like that.”

“What exactly was she saying?” Yuuri scoots closer.

“Well, she said she was having a Christmas party and didn’t want you there, implying she was ashamed of you. And that upset me.” He sighs, slouching on the sofa. “When I told her- when I admitted my sexuality… I- I must have been seventeen— she told me she was fine with it, but not to promote the lifestyle.”

Yuuri squeezes his hand.

“She suspects that you and I are in a relationship, and I’ve come to realize she isn’t as “fine with it” as she originally stated.” He rubs at his eyes. “It was hard, you know? Going through the terrors of puberty while constantly being reminded your mom doesn’t really love you for who you are. And my dad… my dad was homophobic, too. That’s why I waited until after he died to say anything.”

“Not being able to express who you are… why, ‘tis the worst feeling ever.” Yuuri looks at him. “I’m not a Christian, or a… a Puritan, like they were back home. I did not believe in anything they said. I didn’t want to pray their prayers or attend their church services, but to survive, I had no choice. Before I came to this country, while I was in England, I was baptized as Temperance. I didn’t want it. I felt… violated. Being given a new name that I didn’t choose, when I was so proud of the name my parents gave me.”

“Temperance is quite ugly. I don’t see why they had to give you a whole new name.”  
  
“Because they wanted me to be Christian, and Yuuri is not a good Christian, British name. It’s a Japanese name and they wanted me to forget who I was, where I came from. And that kind of reminds me of your mother. She wanted you to be a version of yourself that she created, not your true self.”

“Profound. That’s exactly what I feel…”

They lean in to kiss, but Yuuri hesitates. “Before we do this, I must know. Why are we doing this?”

“What do you mean, kissing? Oh…” Victor cups Yuuri's cheek. “I don’t know why. It just seems natural.”

“Indeed it does, but… I’m technically married and I… I don’t want to label us as friends and keep doing things like this. It doesn’t seem right.”

“I… guess I can see where you’re coming from. But I’m not sure if it would be a good thing to label us, either.”

“Why?”

“You know, they’re worried about you being too dependent on me. And we haven’t known each other that long..”

“But kissing me in the shower, that’s fine.” Yuuri pushed himself to his feet and stands by the window. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. I’m not helpless and I won’t depend on your affection to survive. I’ve never had affection in my life and have gotten along fine. And if you’re too ashamed of people knowing about us, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Let’s think about this. I- I mean, I’d feel so guilty dating you without at least taking you on a date first.”

“A… date. Hm… I’m not sure I know what that is.”

“You know… dinner, drinks… some people go dancing, some see films or go ice skating… a date.” Not that Victor has ever been on a date before, but those seem to be common themes for couples he's witnessed.

“When we met at your university and ate together, that wasn’t a date?”

“I- I mean… _theoretically_ it could have been. But people don’t usually take their children on dates.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“You’re right… not that I mind. Lydia is a lovely girl.”

“She likes you a lot. I wouldn’t let her down if I were you.” Yuuri senses Victor walking up behind him, and is surprised when he feels Victor’s arms around his middle. Victor rests his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I won’t.”

***

“So, do you want to tell me why I had to pick you up from a hotel this morning?” Yuuko asks once Lydia’s been strapped into her car seat early the next morning.

“Um… Victor and his mother aren’t getting along. They had an argument last night about me, and Victor thought it best that we go someplace else for the night.” He debates telling her the next part. “Victor wants to move Lydia and I out of his mother’s house, to avoid the deadline she gave me. He said he’d rent an apartment for the three of us…”

“Whoa whoa… when were you going to tell me all this? Is there something going on between you two?”

Yuuri does something stupid. He tells the truth. “Yes, there is. But… we’re not dating or anything, yet. And we’re not going to let that get in the way of anything. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still me and Lydia against the world.”

“I… see.” She clutches the steering wheel. Yuuri can tell she’s trying not to lecture. “So… when exactly did this happen?”

“It’s been gradual… why? Are you going to do something?”

“What can I do, Yuuri? Tell you not to date? I can’t make you do anything, but I can encourage you. And I really don’t think you should be moving this quickly. I understand the reasoning if Elle really wants you out, but perhaps I could talk to her about it…”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s just… completely changed. And she doesn’t like me anymore. It’s mostly because we brought in Lydia.”

“I see. And Victor wants to move into an apartment with you, because…”

“He’s been meaning to move out anyway. I- I wouldn’t have to live there permanently. Just for now. Until we can get things settled.”

“Right… well, I still think we should think about this before making any rash decisions.”

“It’s not rash. I’m thinking about what’s best for my daughter. And… and for me, too.” Yuuri looks out the window at the snow covered grass of these streets. “I’ve never been cared for by a man before, and it’s what I’ve always wanted. I know- I know that you think I’m going too fast, but Victor’s a good man. He’s not going to hurt me. And if he did anything, I would pack up and leave.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She sighs again. “Well, if you do stay with him, it does make my life a little easier without having to worry about housing or changing your identity. If we can get this letter of no record today, and a passport soon after, my life will be even easier. Let’s have hope, Yuuri Katsuki.”

And he does, but hope alone isn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope all my fellow americans are going to have a splendid thanksgiving break? I'm going to sleep until thursday, gn...
> 
> notes:
> 
> ok so basically w/o a birth certificate or some sort of proof that you were here as a lil kid, it's very difficult to get anything. What Yuuko wants is a Letter of No Record which is basically the government saying "Hey, we can't find your birth record". That doesn't give him an identity. They're going to want something, anything, to prove he's been in this country for a while (his only evidence is the well lmao). Yuuri's best bet, because it's nearly impossible to convince people of where he's actually from, is to get some fake ID stuff or whatever~  
> Victor knows a guy
> 
> Next time: apartment shopping, and Charity decides that someone else needs to get to the twenty-first century— for their own safety. But what will that mean for the future? Meanwhile, Detective Lee urges Yuuko to let someone else pick up Yuuri's case, because she is really, really stressed.


	7. December 18th-December 26th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you certain that he will be alright in the future?”
> 
> Mem smiles brightly at her. “He’d be with Temperance, no?”
> 
> “Yes… then we must send him there.” She nods to herself, but Mem grins when she notices how Charity’s eyes well up with tears. 
> 
> “Is there a problem, Charity?”
> 
> “Just that… I- I want to go too..”
> 
> “Then why don’t you? I don’t see why that’d be a problem.”
> 
> “B-Because Minako says I must stay here to fulfill my destiny…”
> 
> “Who cares what Minako says? You want to be with your mother. So go, and take him with you.”

"Anything new?" Yuuko rests her head against her desk while on speaker phone with Detective Lee. "Because I'm getting really frustrated."

"I've got nothing, Yuuko. What did you expect?" Comes the uninterested voice on the other end of the phone. "How'd the appointment go?"  
  
"Well, Yuuri and Lydia both are going to get that letter, alright. And because Lydia's so young, she'll have a chance. But for Yuuri, the only proof of his identity is centuries old, so we're stuck here. I don't know what else to do." 

"Then don't do anything." The detective suggests. "Tons of people live illegally in this country. They just stay off the radar, if you know what I mean. And since he lives with the professor, he shouldn't have any problems. For now."  
  
"But what if he wants to get married someday?" Yuuko counters. "Get a job? A car? Go to school? He can't do anything, and I don't want him to live his life like that." 

"Yuuko, you're really putting too much effort into him. I can tell you're really stressed. Why don't you swap cases with someone, maybe someone more experienced? Think of your stress levels."

_ *** _

_ “ _ She’s definitely a healthy girl. Her weight is a little below the average, but that’s alright, for now. The only thing I recommend is for her to get her vaccines. The only one we offer here for free is the flu shot.” A few days before Christmas, after the last of the final grades were submitted and peace had been temporarily restored to Victor’s life, he decided to accompany Yuuri to a physical for Lydia offered by a pharmacy nearby; since they had no insurance nor record of existence, this was their best bet at any non-emergency care, but they had to pay upfront. 

“If you think it best.” says Yuuri at once. Knowing that there are vaccines for things that killed people where he was from, he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse them.

“Okay, great. You can get vaccines from various places, depending on your insurance—“

“We have none.” Yuuri cuts her off. “This place is our only option.”

“Okay, well you can get them from here, but they are expensive and you’d have to make a separate appointment.”

“That’s fine. Can we do that in here?”

“Sure.”

There’s somehow an appointment available first thing in the morning (Yuuri has given up wondering why things are convenient) and the assistant reminds him payments are due up front and gives him a price range. They will not be giving her all the vaccines at once, but still quite a few. Lydia isn’t going to enjoy, nor will Victor’s wallet. (That’s why he pays with his credit card and insists that Yuuri can just pay him back sometime in the future).

(It’s a nightmare the following morning. Victor comes with them to pay the crazy-expensive bill, and both wince when they see how Lydia shrieks of either terror or pain as her arm or leg is jabbed with a needle. And she only holds still if Victor sits beside her, but big tears still roll down her cheeks. When she’s all done, (for now) they take her for breakfast as a reward. She’s still sniffling by the time they sit down with their menus, and she says while giving Yuuri a dark glare, “You’re mean. I don’t like you anymore.”

“What did I do—” Yuuri starts to ask, but Victor takes initiative and scolds Lydia. “Lydia, don’t say such things to Yuuri. That is very rude.”

She opens her mouth— but then quickly closes it and stares at him— he’s staring just as intently, with a very serious expression. And she stays very quiet until it’s time to order, and is polite from that moment forward. 

“How did you do that?” Yuuri asks while Lydia is focused on coloring her placemat. 

“What? I put her in her place. She was being rude, so I put a stop to it. What were  _ you  _ going to do?”   
  
“Well, usually, I… I scold them, but they don’t listen.” 

“It seems that they don’t have respect for you.”   
  
“It’s not  _ my  _ fault, Victor.” Yuuri snaps. “What, with her father, grandparents and step-mother constantly whispering terrible things in her ears while spoiling her rotten, who is she more likely to love?”

“She should love you regardless. You’re good to her.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s only happy because you’re here.” Yuuri smiles, but Victor can see the sadness in his eyes. 

“Lydia.” Victor says suddenly. 

“Hm?” She’s coloring in a snowman with a red crayon.

“What is your most favorite thing about your mother?”

She looks up and hums to herself. “He take good care of me?” 

“Indeed he does. And you love him very much, right?”

“Yes. Very very veeeeery much.” She giggles. “Do you?”

“Ahh…” He and Yuuri exchange looks. “Sure. But this is about you. Now, what do you do to show people you love them?” 

“Give hugs?” She suggests.

“Okay, yeah. Giving hugs is a great way to show people you love them. So I don’t understand, Lydia. Since you love your mother, you would want to be very kind to him, yes?”   
  
“Yes…?”   
  
“What about saying unkind things, like ‘I don’t like you anymore’? Does that show him that you love him?”

She’s starting to understand, and is looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I have to go potty.”

Yuuri stands, and the two walk to the bathroom in silence. When she is walking up to the sink to wash her hands, Yuuri hears her sniffling. 

“Lydia?”   
  
“I’m sorry for being mean.” She chokes out, hugging his legs. “An’ now V-Victor’s mad at m-me…” 

“Aw.” He lifts her up and presses a kiss to her temple. “No he’s not, Lydia. He’ll be happy that you apologized though, that was a very good thing to do. Why don’t we go tell him?"

She nods, hugging him tightly, and does just as suggested when they come back to the table. 

She’s all smiles after that, especially when Victor offers to help her color in one of the pictures. 

“Victor, I like you.” Lydia says when they’ve been served. “You’re my favorite person ever.”

“Favorite person? Lydia, I’m honored.” Victor smiles. 

“It’s true!” She hugs his arm. “And I am very excited for Christmas.”

“You are? Why’s that?”

“The yummy food, the… the gifts…”

“ _ Lydia _ .”

“It’s fine, Yuuri.” Victor smiles. “What would you like for your gift, Lydia?”

She smiles shyly. “A pink bicycle.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lovely gift. Where did you see a pink bicycle?”

“At the park…” she ignores the look Yuuri’s giving her. “And I also want a doll with curly hair like me.”

“Uh-huh… anything else?”

“Maybe a beautiful dress.”

“A beautiful dress, for what?”

“Just ‘cause I want to look pretty!” She beams. “Ooh, what if I had a doll with the same dress!”

“Lydia, do not be greedy. You’ll be lucky to get anything. We don’t even celebrate this way at home.” Yuuri says while staring down at the menu, doing his best to both keep his temper in check and to decide what he wants to eat while struggling to understand the words.

“But Victor celebrated it!” Lydia insists. 

“What about you, Yuuri? What would you like for Christmas?”

“Me? Well, I…” Yuuri swallows, tearing his eyes away from the menu. “A nice place to live, perhaps. And to see my children again. Those would be lovely things.”

“Indeed they would…” Victor hides a smile behind his hand. “Um… I happened to schedule a visit to an apartment that’s for sale… and it’s probably in about an hour, if you’d like to come?”

***

“This home was vacated after the tenant was sent to a nursing home, so it's a bit underkept. Owner’s are planning on replacing the hardwood with carpets.” The real estate agent unlocks apartment 2B’s door of an old brick apartment building, and the two of them are met with an apartment with very wide windows overlooking a road, a playground, and a lot of trees. “There are three bedrooms. The master bedroom has its own bathroom, with a jacuzzi setting on the tub.” 

“That sounds nice, doesn’t it, Yuuri?” Victor asks. 

“Mmhm..” Yuuri peeks his head around the corner to look into the dining room. 

“It is a luxury for the price,” The agent continues, “Most apartments don’t have two bathrooms for this price.”    
  
“Why is it so low? Is there something wrong with this apartment? Robberies?” Victor really hopes that isn't the case. He likes the open floor plan of this apartment. It makes it seem a lot bigger than it actually is. And he likes the price most of all.   
  
“Well, it’s just because it needs a new paint job, new carpets, and the appliances are old. It’s on the second floor, when higher floors are preferable.”

“I like the view from here.” Yuuri stands in front of the window and gazes out at the playground beneath their balcony. “You like it too, don’t you, Lydia?”

“Which one is my room?” She asks, disappearing down the hallway past the front door. 

“Hey, come back here!” Yuuri calls after her. 

“How much is it per month, do you think?” Victor asks the agent once they’re alone. 

“2700 per month.”

Victor nods. “Okay. Tell them we want the hardwood, don’t bother about carpets except for in these bedrooms.”

“I like this room!” Lydia exclaims, laying on the ground in one of the three bedrooms. “I’ll sleep right here.” There are two large windows in “Lydia’s” room, and no way to access them from the ground or balcony, which makes him feel a bit better. He does agree that it needs a new paint job and carpet. 

“We haven’t looked at the other apartments yet.” Yuuri points out. “There may be other ones.”

“There doesn’t have to be, if we like this one.” says Victor, voice echoing through the empty hallway as he checks out the other rooms. 

“Don’t you want to think about this?” Yuuri asks. They meet at “Lydia’s” door.

“Well, it’s a twelve-month lease. If it’s really terrible, we wouldn’t stay long. But someone I know from the math department put in good words about this building. So…” Victor leans against the doorframe, and smiles at how content Lydia appears in this room.

“Have you looked at any other apartments?”   
  
“Yeah, for the past four years. Big and small, downtown and rural, houses, townhomes, penthouses.... and this one is just in my budget. Plus I like that there’s space, but not too much space.”

“Hmm… well, if your heart is set on this one, go for it.”

Victor does. They are supposed to move in on the twenty-third of December, as soon as the paint has dried, since the owners promised a move-in-ready apartment. Which means there is a lot to do in the week beforehand. Agreements have to be signed, loans approved, negotiations, and of course, packing. 

Yuuri, of course, doesn’t have much to pack personally, but Victor does, because he grew up in this house. And they need a new sofa and dining table. They have a TV and computer, pots and pans, dishes, silverware, linens, and so on, but there’s obviously going to be quite a bit missing. 

And then, there’s Christmas shopping, which adds to the chaos. Elle seems to have subdued her behavior and is quite helpful during this time. She even goes to see the new apartment with Yuuri, and takes him Christmas shopping for Lydia one evening while Victor is busy. She left for Russia the evening they moved in. 

“Finally.” Yuuri collapses onto the couch they’ve just lifted up a flight of stairs; panting heavily. “I think we’re done.”

“I’m ordering takeout. Forget trying to cook tonight.” 

“Right… that’s a good thing.” Yuuri wipes the sweat from his forehead. “Wake me when it gets here.”

***

“Victor, wake up! I made cookies!” Lydia jumps onto Victor’s bed at about half past twelve on Christmas Eve. He’s surprised he slept this long, but after the stress of his first move, his body had to shut down for a while. “And tomorrow’s Christmas! So get up!!!”   
  
“I’m up, I’m up…” Victor grumbles, forcing himself into a sitting position. “How good are those cookies?”   
  
“Well.. I didn’t make ‘em by my own. So they’re very good.”

“Okay, save some for me. I’m taking a shower first. I smell like sweat and paint.”

.

That afternoon, the three of them face the dangers of the grocery store (fortunately, it’s about a block away) to start to fill up their refrigerator. They aren’t going to eat carryout on Christmas Day. Yuuri says he wants to have a traditional American supper; which means a lot of preparation, but not nearly as much that went into his usual suppers back home.

Victor lugs the turkey back up to their apartment. On their short elevator ride up, Victor holds up a golden key. “Oh, I almost forgot. This one’s yours.”

“Mine…?”   
  
“Take good care of it, and try not to lose it. Other than that, do what you will with it.”

“Why would you give  _ me  _ a key?” Yuuri asks when they arrive in front of their apartment. “I- I don’t own this apartment. I make no financial contribution. All I do is—”

Victor pushes the door, and they’re met with the darkness of their apartment and the faint lights of the Christmas tree they took from Elle’s house. “Seems kind of gloomy when it’s empty, right?”

Yuuri nods slowly, reaching to flip on the lights. He sets the groceries on the counter. “It’s a metaphor for your life before… I… keep forgetting.” He eyes Lydia carefully, making sure she isn’t listening in. “I understand.”

.

When Lydia has fallen asleep, Yuuri starts pulling Lydia’s gifts from under his bed while Victor pours the two of them glasses of champagne to celebrate the holiday and Victor’s upcoming birthday. All the lights are off save for the tree, and so the living room has a warm glow from the city and Christmas lights. 

There aren’t many gifts set out, in Victor’s opinion, but to Yuuri, it’s plenty enough for Lydia. 

He joins Victor on the couch and downs half his glass in one sip. The rest of the night is kind of blurry. He woke up the following morning on the couch, still, head in Victor's lap. He felt kind of guilty for that, in fear that Lydia might have seen him in that position...

***

Even though they’re in a new apartment, Yuuri knew it was one of his bad days the morning after Christmas. From the moment he woke, he felt it. 

And so he doesn’t get up to make breakfast like he promised. He doesn’t go check on Lydia. He just lays there. 

The lights are dim and the city is quiet. It’s just Yuuri and his thoughts. He thinks about how spoiled Lydia was for Christmas, while his other two got nothing. How they’re being treated by the wicked people in their lives. It hurts his heart. He should be with them, no matter what anyone else thinks. And he wants to be, so badly. It’s just not fair. 

Why did he come here? Why didn’t he die when he fell down the well? It doesn’t make sense. 

There had to be significance to the year. So, what’s so important about 2019? Why must he be here? What about 1919? 1819?

He drifts off to sleep…

“Yuuri, it’s 10:30. Didn’t you have to meet Yuuko at 10?”

“I don’t care.” Yuuri mumbles. He’s laying on his side, staring out the window. “I don’t need to see her anymore. All I do is stress her out and inconvenience her. It’d be better for her if she didn’t take on my case.”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Victor opens one of Yuuri’s drawers and pulls out a shirt. “Come on, I can take you to her office so we can explain things.”

“Just leave me alone.” Yuuri reaches over to close the door. “I’m sure you have work to be doing today.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere if you’re staying in bed all day. What about Lydia?”

“What about her?” 

“She’s been up and running around for two hours. Unsupervised.”

“Please just leave me alone.” Yuuri whispers, pulling his blanket up over his face. “I feel unwell.”

“Do you? How so?”

“Nothing you would understand.” Yuuri says tearfully. “Please, just…”

“Hey.” Victor cradles his face. “Talk to me.”

Yuuri sighs. “I miss my kids. I always miss my kids, but right now, it hurts more.”

“I understand.”

“And I don’t know how to take away my pain. I don’t think it’s possible.”

“It may not be possible to erase the pain that comes with being separated from your children. But perhaps it is possible to weaken it.”

“Perhaps… I just don’t want to do that today.”

“I understand.” He touches Yuuri's thigh. “I’m going to go get breakfast with Lydia. We’ll bring you back something.”

“Okay.”

And he sleeps the rest of the time, until their food comes. 

Lydia is excited to go out with Victor. She tries to put on her shoes by herself, and while she does, technically, she puts them on the wrong feet. 

They go to a donut shop nearby. Lydia picks out the most elaborate donut, covered in sprinkles and icing. While Victor pays, she hugs his leg. “I love it here, Victor! I wanna stay here forever!”

* * *

December 26th, 1719

Charity slams her cup down on the table. “This  _ isn’t  _ fair!!!”

“Charity…” Minako knew she shouldn’t have told Charity about what her sister was up to…    
  
“Lydia’s out there living like a queen, so happy and cared for, and we’re stuck here! It isn’t fair!”

“Dear, you know that you must—”   
  
“How is it fair that Lydia, who treated  everyone terribly, gets to live a happy life in the future with no consequences, when poor Johnny, who’s never done a thing to anyone, has to be witched by our evil stepmother and suffer through a living  _ hell _ ?!” 

Minako stays quiet.

“You said we must stay because of our future, that I will have children and grandchildren and— you know what? I don’t  _ care _ . I don’t  _ want  _ to have children! I want my mother!”

And Minako knows this, but in this moment she realizes just how much pressure she has put on this seven-year old. “I know, Charity. It isn’t fair at all.”

Charity cries into her hands, ignoring any sort of reassurance that Minako tries to offer her. The only thing that makes her lift her head is Minako’s promise that they will rescue her little brother soon.

.

“Is this… Temperance’s cap?” Mem puts a hand on her hip as she holds up the wrinkled cap she found under their mattress.

“That must have been under there for a while. ‘Tis well known Temperance escaped often.” John says quietly, watching his very ill son’s ragged breaths. “And ‘tis of no importance now.”

“Had it not been for the fact that I found this under your side of the mattress!” Mem exclaims. “Have you feelings for the  _ witch _ , John? Had I known, I wouldn’t have sent him down the well in the first place!” 

John’s eyes widen. “You… what?”

“I thought ‘tis what you wanted, John…” She says, voice suddenly stiff. “All you ever spoke of was how much you wished to be rid of the wench. So I… I took matters into my own hands.”

“Mem, I—”   
  
“It was just a light push, had he not been leaning over the well as he was, he would not have fallen. Can I really be blamed? Besides…” She walks over to the fireplace. “‘Tis not as if he is dead. Why… he simply visited a new world… a world beneath the well.”

“What is this nonsense you speak of?!”   
  
“Have you not figured it out, John?” She asks in an innocent tone. “‘Tis where Lydia is, ‘tis where Charity tried to escape to— and would have— had I not dragged her away. ‘Tis a world quite different from ours, where Temperance is living quite well. Why, he even has a new husband, and will discover soon enough that he is expecting again.”

“Mem, how do you know this?”   
  
“You really are foolish, husband.” Mem says, “How do I know? Hm… because I’ve been there myself?” She rests her hands on his shoulders. “And I know that your son will die of this unearthly cause unless you send him there. Charity, too. I want none of them here.”

“You have vexed me into blindly following this plan of yours, and now you wish destruction of my children??”

She squeezes his shoulders. “Is that a no?”

“A vehement no! I will not send anyone to a hellish place such as you describe!” But John is tired. Very, very tired. And it won’t take much to convince him to change his mind. Not long after his father fell ill and passed, his son took the same path. And now that Lydia’s gone, he hardly has anything left.

“That’s too bad.” She crouches at the bedside and taps a finger against the sleeping child’s chest. “Because he will travel to someplace far worse. Don’t you see, John? He is witched! Likely by Temperance. His only chance is going to the future—”

“Where Temperance  _ is _ ! I will not hear any more of this. God will heal my son.” 

Mem hugs him, enjoying his embrace, while still clutching Temperance’s cap.  _ No, He won’t. _

.

After John has gone to bed, Mem tends to the child and debates her options. She has plenty of them. Thanks to her, John won’t be waking until dawn, so time isn’t an issue. 

She doesn’t have a vengeance against this four year old, but life would be much easier with him gone. Anything that reminds her of damn Temperance makes her blood boil. Like this stupid cap that’s stained with John’s… 

_ That fool, acting like he didn’t know what I was talking about. He has been thinking of Temperance when all he ever wanted was me!  _ She scrunches up the cap and tosses it into the fire, watching it burn. And there’s her answer. It’s so simple. It’s so… 

The back door creaks open, and Mem meets the gaze of the shivering little girl standing there. “Oh, hello there.” She says casually, rising to her feet slowly. “It has been a long time. How did you fare with  _ Deacon Hobbs _ ?”

Charity blinks, unsure what to say. 

“Funny thing is, that I saw Deacon Hobbs the other day and asked about you. He had no idea what I was talking about. Fortunately, for you, I didn’t tell your father.”

“Aunt Mem, I… I can—”   
  
“There’s no reason to explain. I know you aren’t involved in any witchcraft. The device you used on your father is a camera. I have used a camera many times, myself.”   
  
“Are… are you a witch?” Asks Charity, back pressed against the door.

“Once upon a time, I was. But when I met my husband, your uncle Andrew Wilson, I left that life behind. And then  _ he _ left  _ me _ behind, so now I don’t know what I am.” Mem walks towards her. “He decided that something he found in the future, some woman called Olivia Shippens, was worth much more than me. And to think that all I had taken him to the future for was to show him the wonders and experience them together. He left me, so I told everyone he died. And then, I reintroduced myself to witchcraft. But I’m no witch.”

“Then why… why did you try to kill my mother?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill him. I saved his life. And now…” She motions towards her brother. “I’m trying to save him, too. There are cures for his ailment in the future. Problem is, I am not sure that Minako would allow me to send him there. You must distract her.”

“Distract her?”   
  
“So I can send this child to the future. His soul is soon to depart his body. This is his only chance.” 

“Are you certain that he will be alright in the future?”   
  
Mem smiles brightly at her. “He’d be with Temperance, no?”

“Yes… then we must send him there.” She nods to herself, but Mem grins when she notices how Charity’s eyes well up with tears. 

“Is there a problem, Charity?”

“Just that… I- I want to go too..”

“Then why don’t you? I don’t see why that’d be a problem.”

“B-Because Minako says I must stay here to fulfill my destiny…”

“Who cares what Minako says? You want to be with your mother. So go, and take him with you.”

“I… I don’t know.” She sniffles. “Minako seemed quite certain.”

“Charity, I can assure you no harm will come to you in the future. Once Temperance finds you, you will live like royalty, just like Lydia.”

It doesn’t take much more to convince the girl. 

Mem carries little Johnny down to the well, Charity in tow. Excitement grows within the little girl as she thinks about finally being able to see her mother and sister again. To live like royalty… 

“You go down first, Charity, and then I will lower your brother. You must hold tight to him.” Mem instructs, patting the sleeping toddler's back for good measure. 

“Yes, Mem.” Charity feels nothing as she plunges down the well. After all, it's leading her to freedom, and nothing bad will come from it. And, just as promised, Mem lowers Johnny down the well, too. But something is wrong. He lies very still.

“Mem? Something's not… why isn’t Johnny moving? Help us back up, please?” Charity asks, surprised when her brother doesn't so much as react when his body is submerged in the icy water. "Johnny... what ails you, brother? Wake up..."

Mem pulls up the rope. “I hope they can save him in time, Charity. I truly do.”

“Mem,  _ please _ ! Something’s wrong!”

“Good luck, Charity Wilson.”

“ _ Mem _ !!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i didn't update as promised: thanksgiving happened. idk when the next update is, most likely friday but idk I have stuff to do this week.
> 
> next time: end of part I. sad stuff. visitors from the past. angst.


	8. December 26th-29th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia quiet for a good 15 minutes, until he starts to hear her talking. Not in like, a kid playing pretend kind of way, but… like she’s having a conversation. “Hold on, Beka, that kid I’m babysitting is out of bed.” He tiptoes down the hall and presses his ear against the door.
> 
> “It’s okay Johnny, you don’t have to be scared. Once Mother returns, it will be okay!”
> 
> At first, he thinks, maybe she’s playing with her doll? So he opens the door. What he sees is far worse. She’s standing, facing the corner of the room. It’s very dark. And she’s talking to whatever she sees in that corner. “Lydia, I thought you were going to sleep.” He says, noticing how his voice shakes.
> 
> “Yuri? Is everything okay?”
> 
> “Yeah, hold on.”

Once Victor and Lydia have left, Yuuri goes on his shoes, finds a sweater, and leaves the apartment himself. He can’t stand being alone now. He pushed the button for the elevator but finds the wait to be too long, so he heads for the stairs, nearly colliding someone coming down from the third floor. “Oh, sorry!”

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” Snaps the teenager, shoving past him. 

Yuuri pauses. “Wait. Don’t I know you?”

“Uh…”

“I saw you in the paper. You won some sort of competition this past spring?”

“I did. I’m glad you can read.”

“But that’s not all. You had an injury, two months ago. We were at the hospital at the same time.”

The boy, Yuri Plisetsky, looks at him like there’s bugs crawling from his ears. “So are you a stalker or some shit? Who are you?”

“I’m… Yuuri Katsuki? I live in that apartment right there.” He points behind him. “I’m not following you or anything. I just recognized you, and…”

“Yuuri Katsuki, huh?” He pulls out his phone and sends a text. “You’re the crazy guy they couldn’t diagnose at the mental hospital. Friend of mine’s dad works there. Dr.Altin.” Yuri was sent away from his mom's home for his delinquency, so now he's staying with his grandfather for a while. He's a math professor at Salem State and doesn't teach much anymore. He drops off Yuri every morning at high school and picks him up, and since he has some sort of respect for his grandfather, he doesn't ditch much anymore. 

Yuuri blinks. “I was under the impression that those kinds of things are confidential.”

“Sure is, But your case was weird. Did you really think you were from the 1800s?”

“1700s,” Yuuri corrects. “And no, I didn’t think that. Uh, he… must have gotten me confused for someone else.” 

“Yeah, okay man.” Yuri laughs. “Anyway, later. I’m out of here.”

“Where are you headed?”

“To get into some trouble.” He smirks. “Later, Temperance.”

“Wait a second. You live on the floor above us, right?”

“And…?”

“I’m telling your guardian what you’re up to."

Yuri winces. "You don't know—"  
  
"Nikolai Plisetsky, from the math department at Salem State. His office number is 317."

"What do you want from me, pig?"

"I need someone to babysit my daughter tonight. I know you're not as bad as you come off as, your grandfather told me all about you. I'll pay you $30 to watch her for two hours."

"Ehhh...no. But thanks for the offer."

"Fifty dollars, then. She's three, and all you'll have to do is make her dinner and put her to bed."

"I suppose you already asked my grandfather about this, too?"

Yuuri smiles innocently. "He said he'll be closeby should there be any trouble."

.

“Yuuri, we’re back!” Victor kicks the front door shut and goes to find where Yuuri’s run off to. But he’s not anywhere in the house. “Yuuri?”

“I think he left.” Lydia explains.

So he sits Lydia in her booster with her donut and starts to call Yuuri. To his surprise, Yuuri answers right away. “Yes.”

“I thought you were going to stay in bed?”

“I’m downstairs in that media room. I… had to search for something.”

“Oh. Everything okay?"

“Yes. I will be upstairs shortly.”

And Yuuri keeps to his word. Victor internally chiefs himself for treating Yuuri like a child; so what if he’d left? He expressed no desire of going back down the well. What if he wanted to go on a walk or just be by himself? Was that a bad thing?

Of course not. 

Yuuri comes upstairs within a few minutes. He removes his shoes at the door, kisses Lydia’s head, and then goes back into his room. Victor tries to mind his business. He really does. But he’s curious….

“Yuuri?”

“I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just trying to find my glasses. I misplaced them.”

“You didn’t take them downstairs this morning?”

“No, I couldn’t find them then and got tired of looking.”

“Hmm… when’s the last time you saw them?”

“I took them off before bed and put them on the side table.”

“Hmm… I’ll ask Lydia.” Lydia is still at the table, icing somehow all over her face, without a care in the world. “Lydia, did you play with any glasses this morning?”

“Nope.” She said. 

“Victor, I found them. They were under my bed.” Yuuri sits at the table with his daughter. “So, um… I… think I found where I want you to take me.”

“Take you…?”

“You know, for our date.”

“Oh! Oh…” his face darkened. “Right… with all the moving drama, I—“

“It’s fine. But I remembered what you said, about how people don’t bring their children on dates. So I found someone to watch Lydia for us.”

“Really? Who?”

“You know how you said someone from the math department lived here? Well, it’s his grandson. His grandfather says he’s teaching him responsibility and having him save money for some event he wants to go to. So I offered him $30 to watch Lydia for two hours.”

“That seems… a bit overp—"

“He said he’d do it. So we must go tonight. His grandfather will be just upstairs if there’s any problems.”

“Okay, that’s all fine, but— where is it that you want to go?”

“To a Japanese restaurant.”

“Oh, I’ve never been. That sounds interesting.”

***

“Grandpa, I don’t want to watch some little kid for two hours just for $30. I could get that by working anyplace else.”

“You’re going to do it.” Says his grandfather. “It’s an easy job, really. You feed her dinner and put her to bed. How hard can that be?”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Fine. But don’t go around advertising me as a sitter after today.”

“You got it, kid.”

Yuri dresses nicely and goes downstairs five minutes early, ready to be lectured about what needs to be done for the little girl. Fortunately, the torture is brief. Yuuri quickly explains that Lydia has designated a shelf of the cupboard for all the dinner foods she likes, so to just pick something simple to feed her, and that bedtime should be at 7:30. It’s almost 6:00, now. Yuri feels bad that the kid has to go to bed so early, but it’s probably better for him. “There are plenty of snacks, so feel free to eat anything you want. If we’re late, I’ll pay you more. Um… I gave you my phone number earlier. Victor’s number is right here.” He points to a phone number written on a paper on the fridge. “Don’t be afraid to call if there’s any problems. Or… text message. That’s fine, too.”

And after explaining Lydia’s bedtime routine, they’re gone. 

 

Yuri leans against the counter, observing the little girl from afar. She hasn’t looked up from the TV since he got here. 

So he picks the only thing he knows how to make: macaroni and chicken nuggets. Food’s ready before 6:30, and then he calls Lydia over to eat. She’s shy around him, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to eat. 

It’s easier than it should be, and 7:30 comes along in no time. 

***

“Can we get more  _ katsudon _ , please?” Yuuri calls to the waiter in his native language (the staff was pleasantly surprised that he spoke Japanese as fluently as they did). 

“Coming right up, Yuuri!” one calls back to him.

Victor’s smiling at him, like… really brightly. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Yuuri asks. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just…” Victor stretches his arm across the table and rubs Yuuri’s hand. “It’s nice, seeing you able to be confident like this.”

“It feels nice.” Yuuri admits. “I’m sure the food in here isn’t 100% authentic, but the smells… the language… it’s almost like being in Japan again. Almost. It’s been years since I’ve spoken a word of Japanese. I missed it.”

“How did you learn English so fast?”

“Oh, I… I knew a decent amount, living by a port when I was young. I think I understood the words better than I could speak them. That took a bit more time. But Minako helped me speak it. When I first married, I didn’t have to say much. But when I came to America, there was much more that needed to be said with little children running around.” Yuuri smiles. “I can see that much has changed for Japan. Perhaps we could start watching some films on Japan’s history so I can catch up.”   
  
“You know… one of our history professors focuses on Asian history. I bet he has tons of information on Japan. I could ask him when I go back next week.”

“Could you? That would be… fantastic, actually.” Yuuri shifts his attention to the bowl set in front of him. “ _ Thank you very much! _ ” After he’s about halfway through his second bowl, Yuuri adds, “It’ll be good to have something else to watch. I can see it will get quite boring during the day while you’re gone, with just Lydia and myself.”

“Oh, I could find you some things to do with her, don’t worry about that.” Victor tends to his own bowl. This  _ is  _ quite delicious. “There are library programs for children her age. We could get her books to teach her letters and numbers. There’s the park. There are swimming programs at the Y, as well as other sports. I already have a membership there that I never use. I could add you two. And that’s just a few things off the top of my head..”   


“That does make me feel a bit better.” Yuuri says.

.

After their dinner, the two of them walk into the mostly empty parking lot and get back into Victor’s car. “Where to next?” Victor asks, as if the date doesn’t end once dinner is over. “We’ve still got about an hour until we’re due back.”

“Um… I don’t know… someplace quiet, maybe? Where we can just… talk?”

Both of them knew that talking wasn’t the true itinerary. But Victor simply drives them to a park. They get out of the car and walk around the lit path. Victor’s arm is lightly pressed against his back, as if to guide him along, but Yuuri takes it as something romantic. He does the same to Victor and leans in close to him. They stop at a bench further down the path and sit close to each other. “So… that was a date.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“What comes after?”

“Another date. If that’s what you want.” 

“I’d like that. But what does that make you to me?”   
  
“I’ll let you decide on that.”

There is absolutely no talking done between them from that moment on.

***

 

“Alright, Lydia, it’s time for bed.” Yuri finally looks up from his phone at 7:25, after yet another episode of _Sesame Street_ has come to a close. Lydia’s been yawning for a while, so hopefully she won’t cause any trouble. 

After she brushes her teeth, he helps her into her pajamas, she lays down with her doll that she got on Christmas, and seems like she’s going to go to sleep.  _ Thank God.  _ So he closes the door and goes to find some more food. He calls his friend from the ice rink to pass time, because it’s kind of creepy hanging out in a stranger’s house at night.

Lydia quiet for a good 15 minutes, until he starts to hear her talking. Not in like, a kid playing pretend kind of way, but… like she’s having a conversation. “Hold on, Beka, that kid I’m babysitting is out of bed.” He tiptoes down the hall and presses his ear against the door. 

“It’s okay Johnny, you don’t have to be scared. Once Mother returns, it will be okay!”

At first, he thinks, maybe she’s playing with her doll? So he opens the door. What he sees is far worse. She’s standing, facing the corner of the room. It’s very dark. And she’s talking to whatever she sees in that corner. “Lydia, I thought you were going to sleep.” He says, noticing how his voice shakes. 

“ _ Yuri _ ?  _ Is everything okay _ ?”   
  
“Yeah, hold on.” He calls Lydia’s name again.

Lydia turns around, looking a bit guilty. “Sorry. My brother is here now. I haven’t seen him in forever…” she crawls back into bed. “I will go right to sleep!”

“Your…. brother?." Yura starts looking through the closet and even checks under her bed. But no one is here. 

“Johnny Andy Wilson! See him?” She points to the corner. “He’s four. His hair is brown like Father’s. He has blue eyes.”

“Lydia, that’s enough. There’s nothing there.”  _ Yuuri didn’t mention an imaginary friend.  _

“Yes there is! Tell him you’re here, Johnny! He’s just being mean!” 

And Yuri swears he feels something tug at his shirt. He freaks out. “Otabek Altin, I think I’ve gone crazy. Let me call you back…”

He starts calling Yuuri, but Yuuri won’t answer. Victor won’t, either. What the hell!

“Lydia, this isn’t funny. You need to stop.”

“What? Am I in trouble?”   
  
“Yeah, if you don’t stop trying to trick me, you are!” 

“But I not!” She shouts at him. “Johnny is here! He's right next to you!!!"

.

For the fifth time in ten minutes, Yuuri has gotten a call from “Unknown”. It isn’t Yuri’s number, because it would’ve shown up under his contacts. And he didn’t answer because Victor told him it was most likely a telemarketer. Also, they were kind of busy… doing something else. 

But uh… prior to that, dinner was great. Arguably the best food Yuuri had eaten in years. It made him think of home, which… yes, it hurt sometimes to think of his childhood, but not tonight. How could he be sad when eating his favorite childhood dish? If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine sitting in his parents’ kitchen, waiting for dinner. 

Those days, of course, were long gone.

Anyway, the phone kept ringing, and eventually Yuuri got tired of silencing it. So, he answered. “Hello?”

He’s met with static, off and on. Yuuri hangs up. The Unknown caller calls back within seconds. Victor sighs. “I’ll answer it this time.” But when the phone is put in his hands, it stops ringing.

The second it’s put back in Yuuri’s it rings again. “Hello??”

“...here… I’m lost…”   
  
It is a child’s voice, and Yuuri’s blood runs cold. “Who is this?”

“I’m lost, Mother… don’t…” there is too much static to understand what the child is trying to say, “...where I am…”

Yuuri’s eyes water. “Please, tell me your name.”

“John Andrew Wils—”

Yuuri actually cries out, shooting up a hand to cover his mouth. “My God… please….” The line goes dead, and Yuuri tells Victor to drive as fast as he can to the apartment. Something isn't right.

It’s once they start driving that Victor’s phone rings— both jump, but it’s just Yuri. When Victor answers, he’s met with the panicked shouts of a teenager who swears that their apartment is haunted by a little boy named John Andrew Wilson.

***

“ _In a strange turn of events, the four year old was pronounced dead at the scene. Despite being found inside a well that has been sealed off for fifty years, the child showed no signs of decay. This is a developing story_.”

“Damn…” Leo paused the video and quickly sent the link to Phichit, who responded within seconds.

**_What??? Omfg :’(_ **

_ They didn’t give a name or gender. Do you think it was that little girl you talked about? _

**_Couldn’t be. She was three years old._ **

[iMessage from That Smart Kid in Middle College]

**_Dude I’m fucking shook. That kid that was found in the well?_ **

**_I was babysitting his sister last night. And she was TALKING TO HIM! :O_ **

_ So what, she was seeing her dead brother? _

**_John Andrew Wilson. Something isn’t right with that family. They’re like… from a cult or something. I had to babysit the girl half the night because of it._ **

[iMessage from Phichit <3]

**_Keep me updated, okay? I’m out w/ my mom rn. Maybe you should ask Victor. You’re taking that phys ed class during intersession, right? There’s an excuse to talk to him._ **

_ I heard he only does online classes during intersesh. :/ _

**_He’ll have to come on campus SOMETIMES, though. Just lmk if anything happens._ **

[iMessage from That Smart Kid in Middle College]

**_I feel really bad for them, even if they’re from some creepy cult. Gramps and I just went downstairs to visit. Bad sitch._ **

***

It’s actually been about 24 hours since Yuuri’s left the apartment and has only ventured to the bathroom from his room. He refuses to talk to anyone. 

All he does is stare at the wall, eyes glistening with tears. There are dark bags under his eyes that are always wet. He hasn’t changed clothes. 

On the second day, (December 28th) while Yuuko talks to him in his room, he says the guilt that he feels for leaving his son makes him want to kill himself. And, considering the current state he’s in, it’s possible he will. So she reluctantly lets Victor know that she’s taking Yuuri back to the hospital, which Victor disagrees on, arguing that if he goes there, he will only feel worse. He needs time to grieve. 

And then Yuuko argues about all the risks of his suicidal thoughts, and they go back and forth for a while. 

Eventually, Victor and Yuuko compromise and have Yuuri sent to see his psychiatrist to discuss the situation.

He’s cleared and prescribed a temporary medicine, and is present for the decisions that come with his son’s death. He decides to have him cremated, as it is the cheapest option. It pains him too much to think about being present during the cremation. But they still have to wait for the autopsy to determine the cause of death, so he has some more time to grieve...

.

The following morning, Victor wakes to Yuuri standing at his door, champagne glass in hand. “I remember when he was born, how happy his father was, for once. I’d only had girls before him. Everyone was very happy at his birth. It was such a strange time. We’d just moved here. The walls of the house were barely up. And he made this country better for me.” Victor sits up, motioning for Yuuri to come sit by him. “The fever happened when he was two. It took my newborn. Took his hearing. But it didn’t take him, and for that, John promised me that it was because our son was strong.” He sprawls across Victor’s lap. “And John loves him so. More than the girls. He will think this is my doing.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

Yuuri just lays his head on Victor’s shoulder. “I am sorry for burdening you with this stress. You didn’t need it.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Victor holds him. “But a lot of people are worried about you.”   
  
“This is the sixth child I have lost in less than eight years. Can you imagine what I do to cope with the losses?”

“Have more children.” 

“The stupidest coping method, truly. For I only lose those, too. Some were even born healthy. But not long after they meet the family, they just...die. I firmly believe I’m cursed.” Yuuri sighs. “I don’t know how Johnny and Lydia lived. I didn’t do anything different other than keeping them inside longer. I had no help with them, either, for Mem and her husband were away during that time. And then she came back, and that’s when the sickness started. Her husband died, but she didn’t seem at all that sad.” 

“When did you notice her affections for your husband?”   
  
“It had always been there. But now that she needed comfort, it was painfully obvious.  _ I  _ needed comfort.  _ I  _ was sick, too.” Yuuri frowns. “Charity came when I was 16. Then, I lost two over those next two years. Then, Johnny came, and Lydia right after. They are only eleven months apart. Of course, there was supposed to be a third, that was another girl. She died two days after birth. I lost another shortly after. And finally, just this past spring, I lost another. My life has hardly had a break from losses. I should be used to this. But every time it happens, I’m hurt far more than before. This time, though, eclipses every last loss from before. I’ve never felt this much sorrow in my life.”

Victor is about to speak when Yuuri adds, “Worst of all, Charity is lost out there somewhere. What if she’s hurt, too? What if she’s dead?! I- I think of this all day…”

.

“Is this some kind of prank?” Detective Lee actually pinches himself after the startle of his life— waking up at his desk and seeing a strange looking child staring through his office window at him, dressed in colonial styled clothes. He thinks it had to be a hallucination, considering how much pressure he’s under from the mystery at the well, but it’s very much real. 

On the 26th, some teenagers heard a child calling for help, but their voice was coming from beneath a  _ sealed  _ well. So of course, the fire department and all that were called, they somehow managed to get the well open, to find  _ two  _ children beneath the cover. Once the girl’s brother was pried from their grip, she panicked and ran off. The emergency team couldn’t find her anywhere. The rest of them tended to the little boy, but there wasn’t anything they could do for him. It didn’t take long to identify the guardian, though, once Detective Lee came to the scene and said far too many expletives. The plot really thickened. How the hell were these people getting in and out of this well, and why were the children trapped this time? Is this really where Lydia and Yuuri came from? What, was there a house down there? 

So they sent a camera down, to find nothing but a completely sealed off, old well, and an old coin. After being examined, it is indeed from the early 1700s. Strange thing is, it wasn’t buried under anything. Perhaps this used to be a wishing well? 

So now he’s staring, face-to-face, with the little girl that was rescued from the well. He opens the window, and she takes a step back. “Don’t be scared, little girl. You’re the one we rescued from the well, right?”   
  
She nods quickly.

“What’s your name?”

“C-Charity Wils—”   
  
“Damn it.” He rubs at his eyes. “Alright, wait right there, Charity. I’m going to send some people outside to help you, okay? It’s freezing out there. Then maybe we can call your parents to come get you.”

***

“Yuuri. Yuuri, wake up.” A phone was pushed up to Yuuri’s ear and he mumbled something incomprehensible while the person on the line said something about him needing to come down to the police station at once. That they found Charity. 

.

“My name is Lilia Baranovskaya.” Says the very, very uptight looking woman who has been sitting with Charity all this time. “I’m going to be taking care of you for a while. Do you know what a social worker is?”   
  
She shakes her head.

“I didn’t think so. When is your birthday?”   
  
“October 7th.”

“So… you should be in first or second grade. Where did you go to school?”   
  
“I can’t read.” Charity says casually, as if that’s no big deal. 

“What do you mean, you can’t read? Why didn’t you go to school? Were you taught at home?”   
  
“Schools are just for boys. But I can spell my name! Well, almost… I’m about halfway there.”

“Really? Show me.”

“C...h...ar…” She looks a little frustrated. “There’s… i’s and y’s and I don’t know which one comes first.”

“Well, I’m going to assume your name is spelled the way I think it is. So that would be C-h-a-r-i-t-y.”

“Oh.” She hugs her knees.

“So, if you didn’t go to school, what did you do at home?”   
  
“I… played with my sister Lydia, sometimes I’d help in the garden, or visit my grandmother.”

“What about mom and dad? Do you live with them?”

“Well, I… I used to.”   
  
“Are they not married anymore?”   
  
“Yeah. They argued often. My father hurt my mother often, but..."

“When did they separate?”

“October, when my… my stepmother, she..”

"Charity, tell me something. Who has been taking care of you?" 

"Nobody. I... I ran away from home. But please,  _please_ don't tell him that—"  
  
Lilia misunderstood. She assumed  _him_ referred to whoever the father was. So, when the door bursts open, and—

“Charity??” Yuuri’s voice interrupts, and both turn to see him standing at the door.

Lilia decides that Yuuri must be the father in question.

It indeed does appear that the two of them have been separated for a while, but the way that Yuuri sobs is truly heart wrenching. 

The whole situation is very, very troubling. And now that there’s a death involved, Yuuri may be the one to face charges, since no one will believe the story that these children came from a world beneath the well.

Besides those children being trapped beneath a robustly sealed well, of course.  The investigators think this is a case of neglect, and that it’s all Yuuri’s doing. 

 

No more than five minutes later, Yuuri is being accused of the murder of his four year old son.

END OF PART I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'(
> 
> What's ahead for part II? Something like this:
> 
> Graveyard keepers and historians are scratching their heads at the strange disappearance of the grave of John Andrew Wilson and Charity Anne Wilson-Moss in the historic graveyard. The courts are scratching their heads on what they're supposed to do with a family of people from another century. Meanwhile, Charity doesn't get along well with Victor, and so one icy night, the two of them venture off to attend a play together.
> 
> Also someone from the past who we all hate more than Mem gets curious about the well.


	9. January, 2020

1715-1717

“Good morrow, John Wilson!” A neighbor, Mr. Raleigh, clasped the man’s hand after Easter Sunday’s service in late April, in the year 1715. “And hello, little Charity! I say, where is Mrs. Wilson?”  
“At just three o’clock this very day, I have been borne a son.” John said in reply, eyes bright. “He is of good health, God be praised. Strong and big. Mother said she’d not be surprised if he stood up and walked by the morrow.”  
“Good, good!” Mr. Raleigh beamed. “May God bless this child. ‘Tis high time you were borne a son, besides.”

After service and a lunch, Goody Wilson took Charity from her father’s arms, promising to watch over her granddaughter for the night. At just one and a half, she couldn’t be left alone, and her mother was in no state to watch over her.

John entered his small home in a busy neighborhood of London. Every day he longed to be in a more spacious, quiet area such as America could offer. Soon as the next ship came along, when his son was a little older, they would all go, and he’d never look back.

He hung his cloak by the hearth, bid good afternoon to the house servant, and continued onto his bedroom to see his little son once again. The little one rested against Yuuri’s chest, sound asleep. The light hairs atop his head were covered in a knitted, white cap that matched the blanket wrapped firmly round him.

Yuuri’s eyes were closed, his breaths coming just as gently and slowly as the child’s, and both were the image of peace. Yes, his son was indeed a gift from God.  
.  
It took months to reach America’s shores, and by then, John Andrew Wilson, or Johnny as he was affectionately called by his family, was four months old. He suffered collick for much of his infancy, much to the dismay of the other passengers of the vessel.

He was crawling before the last of the walls were put up in their home, and walking long before his birthday in the spring. He was given a baby sister in May: Lydia, an equally colicky, unhappy baby. John disliked his youngest greatly for her fussiness and doted solely on his son. Johnny was the first child of his to bring him this kind of joy, this pride…

When the boy was two, he caught a horrible illness. His fever seemed to climb higher by the hour, and John never left his son’s side. It was at this time that Mem lost her husband to the same illness. But his son survived, albeit with damage. Early one afternoon as he watched his son play by the fire, John called to him: “Son, come hither.”  
And the boy did not. In fact, it seemed as if he didn’t hear his father at all. “John Andrew, come hither.” He repeated a bit louder. The boy scratched at his hair and continued his game. This both angered and upset John. “What’s the matter with you, son?” He stood, lifting the boy into his arms. “Can you not hear your father, John Andrew?”  
The boy giggled, touching the sides of his father’s face. He babbled about something, only distressing him further. “What is this? Listen to me, child!” He shouted, as loud as his voice might allow. The boy started to cry for his mother, confused at what he had done to upset his beloved father.

Yuuri stood up in the back garden, hurrying to see what had happened. “Johnny, where are you?” The boy didn’t react to his presence until he saw him.  
“There is something wrong with our son. I suspect he cannot hear a thing.”

Yuuri took the boy into his arms to soothe him, worrying at his bottom lip. “The fever was high, was it not? What if…” He lifted his son’s head to look him in the eye. “What ails you, darling?” He asked softly, to no prevail. Yuuri sat in a chair by the fire, still holding his son close. He spoke a bit louder, in his ear, this time. “What ails you?”  
“Father… mean!” The boy wailed, hugging his mother tightly.  
Both parents sighed in relief. But their trouble was far from over. The damage was permanent.

* * *

Present Day

  
  
The days were dark in their apartment, from the day Yuuri’s sweet son’s body was found until two weeks after autopsy results and cremation. He had fluid in his lungs. Not from the water of the well, but severe, untreated pneumonia. He was four years old when he died.

Each day, Victor drove Lydia with him to work and left her at the daycare, which she loved. It was better that Yuuri was given his space during this time. Charity spent a few days hospitalized, but most days now, her social worker stops by and takes her to all sorts of doctors and professionals for various testing, therapy appointments, and so on.

Yuuri hardly leaves his room, and he wished to be left alone, refusing to speak to anyone in his grief. At night, both of his children slept at his side, as he couldn’t stand to sleep separate from them now, always in fear that they were hurt.

He wondered what John would think if he found out about their son’s death. Their son was his favorite; he took him everywhere, and little Johnny followed his father like a curious puppy. He lived for his father’s attention and approval. Surely, John would be devastated. For a brief moment at the height of his insane grief, he longed for his husband’s comfort. For while Victor was a wonderful source of comfort, he didn’t love that child. He didn’t know him. He didn’t understand, not truly.

It was a horrible thought, really, since John was a horrible person. The only thing that could come from John’s presence was more pain. He dismissed the thought quickly.

One morning in mid January, Yuuri’s grief contained itself, and for the first time in weeks, he was able to breathe. He wakes to the sound of his youngest giggling in the bathtub while Victor tried to wash her. Oh, he was so good, taking care of her all these weeks with no complaint. And she adored him.

Charity is still snuggled into his side, in her old nightgown and thumb raised to her lips— a habit she never quite broke, much as her father scolded. She seems peaceful in her sleep. She too, has grieved all these days, but her slumber allowed her an escape from her sorrow, and for that, he is grateful. He is unfortunate not to have the same luck.

Yuuri slips out of bed, deciding to shower and change into some clean clothes. Passing the calendar next to his closet, he knows he has a meeting to attend today with Charity’s social worker and the staff of a nearby school, as it is mandatory that Charity receives an education.

The only open bathroom, of course, was connected to Victor’s bedroom, but Yuuri was sure he wouldn’t mind. So he closed the door and let the hot water rush over him, slowly massaging the strain out of him. While his grief still clings to his neck, it isn’t strangling him today. So he must act while he has the strength to.

He listened to Lydia and Victor walk into Lydia’s bedroom to get dressed. He turned the TV on for her and walked into his own bedroom, pausing by the bathroom door. It opens, slowly, and Yuuri pretends he doesn’t notice.

“Yuuri?”  
“I’m fine. Where’s Lydia?”  
“She’s in her room. I’ll be taking her to daycare in about an hour. Are you still going to Charity’s appointment today? Should I drive you?”  
Yuuri bites his lip. “Yes...come here, please.”

Yuuri listens to his clothes rustling, knowing that Victor is being a bit daring but understood his tone. He is near the shower door, so Yuuri opens it quickly and drags him in with a searing kiss. Victor is receptive, to say the least, allowing Yuuri to pin him to the shower wall and kissing him back with as much force as he can muster despite his shock. “You…” Yuuri pants between kisses, “are an incredible man. I do not deserve you and your kind deeds, nor do my children.”

“On the contrary, Yuuri,” He pulls back just far enough to start kissing on Yuuri’s neck, an amorous action he’d never experienced before, “You and your children deserve the world.”

  
.

  
After both dried and dressed, Yuuri agreed to let Victor drive him and Charity to their meeting on his way to work. He woke Charity, who, in a half-awake state, allowed him to dress her and braid her hair. She didn’t know where they were going today, but because Victor was coming she didn’t seem very happy. Still, she climbed into the booster seat of his car without complaint, but she avoided his eyes for the entire ride.

Adapting to modern life hasn’t been easy for her. The biggest issue, surprisingly enough, wasn’t the technology. No, it was the food. Her first few days, she ate mostly greasy, poorly cooked hospital food, and it didn’t react well on the body that had only known 18th century cuisine. The tech, of course, came as quite a surprise to her. For the first few days, she was convinced that it was all witchcraft, but after a while, she just got used to it. It did not occur to her that she lived in the future. She just assumed that this is how life was outside of her small village and thought nothing more of it.

And the hardest part was her mother’s… new husband, she supposed. Yes, her father remarried Aunt Mem very quickly, but she never thought her mother would do the same. Most of the time she longed for her parents to remarry, for everything to go back to normal. But even she realized that that wasn’t to be.  
Victor parks his car in front of an unfamiliar building, and she could see Lilia standing nearby. “Mother… am I to go alone?”  
“Nay, I’m coming too.” He meets Victor in the middle for a parting kiss. “Thank you.”  
Charity tries not to gag. “Come, Charity. ‘Tis better we are not any later than we already are.”

(Victor didn’t say anything to Yuuri, but he found it interesting how Yuuri had began to switch back to his original dialect. Yes, he still speaks in an accent and can’t seem to get ‘tis out of his system. But Victor has noticed that he speaks his old dialect strongest when he is upset. Just a few nights ago, he and Yuuri had been seated on Yuuri’s bed, talking about Lydia, when suddenly Yuuri started to shout (not at him), demanding to know why God took his son from him. “From grief my heart will never be free, ‘tis eternal! John says, if ye call to God, thy soul will be at once comforted! So I ask thee, God, why is my soul so empty still? Why is my heart broken? Thy power is limited, ‘tis the only reason my son is gone!”)

Charity can’t unbuckle herself, so Yuuri walks around the car to help her. Then, they go towards Lilia; Charity clinging to Yuuri the whole time.  
Victor’s just thankful Yuuri is still here. After he was accused of child endangerment, it wasn’t easy to prove his innocence. Victor was a key witness; Yuuri had only been with Lydia for some weeks now— the others, with their father. So naturally, the police wanted to know where said father is, and… wasn’t Yuuri the father? Yuuri was subjected to several tests and examinations which concluded that there was a second father, but none would believe Yuuri’s statement on where he was.

“Where’s Chawity goin’?” Lydia asked, her face scrunched up. “Why I can’t come?”  
“Because you’re coming with me.”

  
.

  
Charity is surprised, to say the least, to find out she will be attending school. The school is probably larger than all the homes in her village put together. The whole idea of school baffled her. Back home, only boys in large towns attended schools. There were none in her village. You learned only what your mother could teach you, and hers didn’t know much.

“Good to see you up and at it again, Yuuri,” Lilia nods towards him. “I was sure you wouldn’t come, but I’m glad you did.”  
Yuuri dips his head.

Both are wide eyed when they enter the school. With its bright lights and many, many colors on the walls, and far too many new faces, Charity is soon overwhelmed. For a girl who hardly knew colors besides blue, white, brown, and black, this is a whole new world.

Lilia leads them into the office where a secretary is waiting expectantly. (They stood in the hallway for quite some time, taking in all the new sights. The same thing happened the first time Yuuri entered a grocery store.) “This is Charity Wilson.” She says, motioning for the little girl to step forward.  
“That’s a pretty name.” The secretary smiles. Charity hides behind Yuuri’s leg.

Soon, they’re filling out a lot of paperwork— only as much as they know. Lilia reads everything to Yuuri and directs him to sign here and there. When it comes to filling out information about the father, Yuuri looks to the secretary and says, “He isn’t in her life. I can’t fill out any information on him.”  
“We do need to know, for legal purposes—”  
“I don’t know where he lives, his age, nor his legal status. All I know is his name.”  
“Ah… well, put that down. It’s a start.”

“What grade will Charity be entering?” The secretary asks after collecting the papers.  
“I don’t know… I’m not familiar with the school system.” Yuuri glances to Lilia for help.  
“When is her birthday?”  
“October 7th, 17—.” Lilia nudges him, an indication to shut up.  
“And she’s seven?”  
“Yes.”  
“Alright, well… around here that would mean that she is in first grade.”

  
.

  
The principal meets them next. She is tall and slim and wears a handsome pantsuit. Charity wonders why so many women here wear trousers. The principal takes them out into the hallway just as the bell rings. Startled, Charity almost cries as she hides in her mother’s shirt. Today won’t be easy. She is shadowing Miss Warren’s class until lunchtime. Yuuri will have to leave her here alone. He isn’t sure he’ll make it out of the building without being called back to comfort her.

But Lilia will be here, observing from afar, meeting with the school counselor and several other teachers who will have to work one-on-one with Charity. She assures Yuuri that his daughter will be fine, yes, she knows his phone number, and she’ll call if there are any issues.

And so Yuuri leaves.  
Charity only cries a little. She only hides in the corner of the classroom for a minute.  
The children are having morning recess at this point, but it takes a while for Miss Warren to coax her out of her corner. “Brielle, Peyton, come here for a minute?” She calls to two little girls who were building a block tower. Charity still hides her face. “This is Charity Wilson, she’s going to be joining our class. I was wondering if you’d like to help her get settled in; she’s a little shy.”

“Okay.” One of them shrugs. Miss Warren has to go deal with a dispute between two boys, so she leaves the girls alone. The first girl, Brielle, sits on the ground near Charity. “Why are you hiding like that?”  
“It’s ‘cause she’s shy, Bri! Duhhh…” Peyton joins her.  
“Well then why are you shy? What is your name?”  
“Miss Warren said her name is Cherry Wilson, Bri!” Peyton corrects her once again.  
“‘Tis Charity, not Cherry.” Charity removes her hands. “I’m not shy. I am frightened.”  
“Why?”  
“Are you from Irish?” Brielle asked. “You sound like Mary Boppins.”  
“Mary Boppins is from British, Bri, remember?”  
Charity blinks in confusion, but resumes nonetheless, “I am from Salem Village. But I was born in England. My mother and father sailed to the Massachusetts colony when I was but three years old, so Salem ‘tis all I have ever known.”  
“Hm. I was born in Boston.” Brielle says thoughtfully.  
“I was born in my Daddy’s truck!” Peyton adds.

Charity seems to warm up to them a little after that. “I was born in my father’s townhome, as was my little brother, Johnny. The rest, I remember. My little sister, she was borne in Grandmother Wilson’s cabin, right on the ground by the hearth!”  
“Oh…” Brielle makes a disgusted face. “Why didn’t your mommy have her at the hospital? Or call an ambulance?”  
“I… don’t think we have such things where I am from.”

The two girls encourage Charity to follow them over to the play area, but she finds it to be too much for her and lingers from a distance. Instead of playing, she looks at the wall. There is a poster with many portraits of men on them. The first was dressed in clothing similar to the people of her village, and so she stops in front of it to touch it. “Who is this…?”  
“That’s Abraham Lincoln.” Brielle replies.  
“Nooo, Abraham Lincoln’s the one on the penny with the big hat! That’s George Washington!”  
“George Washington…” Charity repeated. “Why is his portrait here?”  
“Because he made America! He was the first president!” Peyton exclaims. “President’s Day is on Monday and I’m going bowling cause that’s my birthday.”

“Oh.” She folds her arms. “He made America? But how? Is this not a colony of Britain?”  
“Oh no! She’s a… a… Redcoat! That’s what it’s called, isn’t it, Peyton?”  
“Yeah! The bad guys were wearing red in that video we watched yesterday! Oh, man! You’re gonna get throwned in jail for being a traitor!”

“No one’s getting thrown in jail, Peyton.” Miss Warren rests a hand on Charity’s shoulder. “This all happened hundreds of years ago, in 1775. George Washington was the general of the American side of the Revolutionary War against England, to gain our independence.”

“1775?” Charity repeats, tears springing into her eyes. “Is it not 1720, Miss Warren?”  
Fortunately, the teacher had already been briefed in this peculiar situation and isn’t fazed by the question. “Charity, have you seen the toys we have? Why don’t you try building a block tower with the girls? I’d love to see how tall you could get it before break is over.”  
.  
Charity leaves the school just after the children go to lunch. They had already gone to music class before that, which left her and Miss Warren alone. They made a nametag for her new spot at the table and for her cubby, and then she was tested by another woman in her office for the remainder of the time. She had never been more relieved to see her mother.

“How was it?” He asks with concern once they are alone outside.  
“I… I suppose ‘twas alright. But why must I go?”  
“That’s just how it is, here.” Yuuri says, giving no further explanation.

  
.

  
Yuuri serves her a simple soup for lunch, and Charity is relieved for the food that is easy on her stomach. She wonders what he does for most of the day around here, as there is hardly any work to be done with these contraptions around. A machine that washes clothes, a machine that dries them, a machine that sucks up crumbs from the rug, a machine that heats food without fire… life seems too easy here to be content.

“Mother, I think I’ll get some rest now. I’m quite tired.” Charity says to him after lunch, eyes beginning to droop shut as she lays sideways on the couch.  
“Very well.” He says as he walks down the hall. He returns with a soft blanket and pillow and urges her to sleep as long as she needs.  
He settles beside her with a cup of tea, but waits until she’s asleep to turn on the television, resuming his history study with another episode of the show he used to watch with Victor. Today’s subject? World War II.

  
.

When Victor and Lydia come home that afternoon, Yuuri has an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. Charity stands on a step-stool beside him, assisting him with preparing dinner. She too seems upset. “I’m home, Mother!” Lydia drops her bag by the door and tosses off her shoes. “And I’m hungry!”

“Here, you can have Charity’s leftover apple slices.” He says in a less than friendly tone, moving her to sit at the table.

“How was your day, Yuuri?” Victor asks, debating coming any closer. What is up with him today?  
“‘Twas just fine.” He covers the pot on the stove and wipes his hands on his apron.  
“Did Charity’s school visit go smoothly?”  
“Yes.” He hangs his apron in the pantry and folds his arms.  
“What is it?”  
“This country is not as mighty as its people claim it to be.”  
Victor hums to himself. “You watched the World War II documentary today, didn’t you?”  
“Indeed I did! And to release such an atrocious weapon on thousands of innocent people not once, but twice, is so sickening that I can hardly stand to live in this country another moment!” He cries, covering his mouth to stifle a sob. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“You were overwhelmed as it was, how could I devastate you with that news? But rest assured, Japan has recovered greatly. They led the way with technological developments, and—”  
“Are you implying that ‘twas a good thing? These people may have recovered their economy, but that doesn’t mean the memory has been erased! There are still people alive today, who lost their mothers, their fathers, their husbands and wives! Their children! Their sweet, innocent children, killed over a matter they had no control in! These… these people are my people, Victor! I feel the pain of this attack as if it was mine own!”

  
“I’m not saying that the nuclear bombing was right, but you obviously realize that I had nothing to do with it?”  
Yuuri exhales slowly, shrugging his shoulders, “I know, I know… I’m just so… so angry about it. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry you had to find out about it this way. I’m sure you have many questions, and I’m not really the one to answer it without my responses being biased as my education focused primarily on the American side of things. But… we do have an Asian and Asian-American History professor, an adjunct, who comes to campus a few times a week. I’m sure she could help you answer those questions far better than I can.”

Yuuri nods. “Yes… yes, alright. I’ll… do that.”

  
.

Despite Yuuri’s outburst, they have a calm evening at home for a change without any trouble or discontent. Charity spends a long while after dinner playing in Lydia’s room, and if Yuuri closes his eyes, he imagines he is home again, long before any of this happened. When his son was alive.

He wishes there was a way to bring his son back. He’d endure a lifetime of abuse from his husband and in-laws if it meant his son would live. He wonders if there is a way to go back and change what has already been done. If Minako would allow such a thing. She warned him of this. She knew it was going to happen. He knows it’s his fault, and that is a fact he will take to his grave with him. But he will not give up just yet. If there is a way to bring his son back, he will do it. He will give up everything he has now for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back :P  
> Hope to update more soon! Thank you so much for your patience during this difficult time.
> 
> Next time: Victor finally gets to spend some one-on-one time with Charity, and there's a large flashback portion of the past.


	10. January-February, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks of the past, progress made in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: as we deal with the past, John is an abusive POS

1716 

“May I entrust in you a secret, which you may never tell?” Yuuri whispered to his only caretaker, Mem, just two days after the birth of Lydia. He was quite weak, his skin too pale; indeed, this child was not his third, but his fifth, and it was starting to show.

“Of course,” she said, carefully taking the infant from him so that Yuuri could try to sit up.

He nodded to himself. “I will tell you then. I hate this land.”

“Hate is a strong word. You’ve been here less than a year, have ye not?”

“I hate it.” He repeated, a bit more firm this time. “I wish he never brought us here. We were happy in England. We had a fine home. He is a wicked man, uprooting us solely for his benefit”.

“Why do you feel this way? John does all he can to provide for thee. ‘Tis selfish to think such things.”

“John is an ignorant ass who doesn’t care whether I live or die.” He choked out bitterly.  
Mem’s eyes widened at his profanity. “You _mustn’t_ say such things, Temperance, or I _will_ tell thy secret.”

“Tell him then.” Yuuri wept. “T’will just be a beating come sooner than the next.”

“Temperance, thy head must be mad from fever. Pray don’t speak another word of this to me.”

Just then, thunder rumbled overhead, waking little Johnny, who was hardly a year old. “Shall I nurse him?” She moved to stand, sitting once more when Yuuri spoke.

“No, no, take thy leave, Mem. If you will not listen, then I wish not to see you. I shall handle him on my own.”

“Very well!” She stood again, placing the infant just out of his reach in a wooden cradle, mumbling something like “he deserves this illness.” only to finish, louder, “You are a rude, selfish heathen, and the only thing I hate on God’s earth is thee!”

“Have you seen thyself, Remember Smythe?”

.

The following morning, Mem did not come to the house as expected to assist with the chores and children, much to John’s discontent. “What did ye say to her this time? She, but a poor woman tending to her dying husband, and you strive to make her life a living hell when all she has done is good to thee!”

“She is mean to me and disrespects my wishes.”

He groaned. “Thy only wish should be to _rest_. Why must ye bitch at her when she works so hard? You must go apologize— do not give me such a look! Isn’t he a scoundrel, glaring such a way!”

“I can scarcely sit, how will I walk all the way to her home?”

“You will certainly figure it out on the way. Be gone with ye, Temperance.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“I said,” at this, John grabbed Yuuri’s arm and yanked him to his feet, “be _gone_! Do not return until ye have apologized to thy sister!”

Yuuri managed to walk to the front gate of his yard before he lost his strength and could no longer stand, even when holding onto the fence. His knees buckled under him and he tumbled to the ground. Little Charity toddled into the yard, giggling at his predicament. “You all dirty!” She jumped in a puddle by him, staining his skirts.

“Charity… fetch Father, please… I am unwell…”

“Muddy muddy mud!” She laughed, continuing to splash.   
“Charity Anne. Please.”

“What, Mother?”  
“Get Father. Right away!”

“Fatheeeer! Faaaaaaather!” She called, stomping her feet through the mud as she walked towards the house.

John came outside to find Yuuri desperately clutching the fence in attempts to stand. “What?”

“I-I can’t get up…” Yuuri groaned. “It hurts…”

“Excuses, excuses! Thy pride is too big to apologize to Mem! Well, I shall handle this!” John was a strong man, to say the least. He pulled up Yuuri by the elastic round his waist and dragged him down to Mem’s home, dropping him at her feet by the doorstep. “No more excuses! Apologize!”

Yuuri lay there, sniveling, in so much pain, yet he refused to say a word to her.

“What’s this about, John?” Mem asked, hand on her hip. “He asked me not to come to the house. I’ve no grievance with him.”

“You hear that, you filthy wretch? Out of the kindness of her heart, your sister has chosen not to continue thy childish quarrel. Thank her!”

But Yuuri chose not to. Grimacing, he pushed himself up onto his knees. “She’s _not_ my sister.”

Mem hid a smile behind her hand when John struck him. “Goodness, I know not what should be done to cure this sauciness.”

“I have a few methods.” John huffed, dragging Yuuri by the _hair_ towards the front gate.

“I will be by shortly, John, dear,” she called after them merrily. “Good luck in thine endeavors!”

.

“Oh, the poor babe is so hungry,” Mem clicked her tongue, lifting baby Lydia from her cradle later that morning. “What a naughty thing Temperance is, leaving you to starve.”

Yuuri bit his tongue, struggling against his retraints in the loft. Swear words were building up inside of him, and if he could get the stupid cloth from his mouth, he’d scream them all at her.

She sat in the rocker by the hearth and nursed his daughter, humming an unfamiliar tune.

Just then, John walked in, smile widening at the sight of her. “My, what a joy to my eyes. You are so good to us, Mem.” He knelt at her feet, squeezing her hand. “What I wouldn’t give for thee to take Temperance’s place. You are a perfect woman.”

“Oh John,” she blushed, and their faces got very close. John stopped, just inches away, and called out sharply: “Temperance! Come down here at once!”

Yuuri obeyed, hands trembling as he climbed down the ladder. He stood in front of his husband and waited for another lecture. John tugged off the restraints and the gag from his lips. “Kiss your sister, apologize, and go straight to bed. You have disappointed all of us today.”

Yuuri leaned into Mem’s cheek, but instead of a kiss, he does the opposite. He bit her hard enough to draw blood. Mem shrieked, standing so fast that she dropped baby Lydia. Fortunately, the baby was caught by her father. Yuuri laughed, self-satisfied smile toying at his lips. “Serves you right. This is _my_ child, _my_ husband, and _my_ house. Stop trying to steal it from me!”

Needless to say, Yuuri went back to the loft after that with lots of fresh bruises and a bit of blood himself. But this time, he was permitted to bring Lydia with him, as she was colicky and unpleasant today and even Mem grew tired of her. He gazed out the window at the falling rain, rocking his baby slowly, wishing he could do something to soothe her tears. Wishing he had a life better than this.

Mem did not attend service the following Sunday, much to Yuuri’s satisfaction. According to rumor, the bite looked terrible and she was very embarrassed about it, refusing to show herself in public. During the service, the children tested his patience to its limits. With Lydia’s fussing, Johnny wanting to climb all over the seats and Charity tugging on his hair, he wished desperately that it wasn’t a requirement to attend such a long service. His children obviously wanted to be outside playing in the warm sun, as they should. In Japan, he never had to endure all of this. He missed his parents dearly, and the reminder that it was impossible to speak with them ever again hurt his heart, especially at times like this. He wished one of them would at least to move to Europe, so it would be possible to correspond once a year or so…

That afternoon, they visited Goody Wilson’s home, as they did every week. But today, Mem and her husband were there. Mr. Andrew Wilson, John's brother, was a sickly, unpleasant little man, and rested in a chair by the corner with a blanket wrapped round his shoulders. Yuuri was always hesitant to let his children near that man. He’d already lost a child to illness before…

“Temperance, help Mem gather some vegetables from the garden.” Goody Wilson ordered no sooner than he had walked across the threshold.

 _Oh Lord_ , Yuuri thought. _Now she’ll get her revenge._

The two sat crouched in the garden, Mem scowling all the time. She looked up at him with a smile after several minutes. “Did John beat thee for it?”

“John would beat me for breathing,” Yuuri replied. “You should not long to be his wife as you do. He would do the same to you, Mem.”

“You anger John ‘til he has no choice. If ye would just behave, thy marriage would be most content.”

“Lies, all of it.” Yuuri stomped his foot, clutching the vegetables in his apron tightly. “In England, sometimes he would beat me for _looking_ at him. Sometimes, in front of Charity. He is a wicked man. But I do not worry. God will punish him.”

“Wretch.” She muttered. “Dirty little slut…”

“Bitch.” Yuuri retorted, lifting his heavy skirts to get into the house quickly before Mem could tell on him. She was only two years his senior, but just as childish, if not more.

Dinner was quiet. Andrew did not join them at the table. Mem glared at Yuuri the entire time, pinching his arm every now and then out of everyone’s sight. In return, Yuuri would step on her toe. Eventually, John caught on to both of their shenanigans, but only Yuuri was punished for it. “Damn you, childish brat!” He shouted, backhanding Yuuri. Mem giggled, marveling at the red mark on his cheek. “Apologize to Mem. And to Mother and Father, for disrespecting them.”

Yuuri sat straight up and turned his head towards Mem. He parted his lips, just enough to show his teeth, and then bit them down, once, twice. Mem knew what that meant and cried, “Oh, he’s wicked!”

***

And indeed he was, during that time. For his twentieth year, he did more wicked things than he ever would in his life. No longer did his husband’s punishments faze him. He had grown numb to all but one type of punishment. Fortunately, it was one that would never be inflicted on him in public.

In late winter, just days before the first of spring, he gave birth to another daughter. But with her birth came a terrible illness to the village. The illness took Andrew, finally, and Johnny’s hearing, and… his baby, too. His baby daughter was buried in the family plot of the cemetery, but Andrew was buried “in Boston” according to Mem, but Yuuri never saw his body nor his coffin. He was too grief stricken at the time to care much of it.

After Andrew passed, God bless the poor man, Mem moved in with her in-laws for comfort and began spending nearly every day in Yuuri’s home. Flirting with John, stealing his children’s attention and turning his daughters into little brats just like herself, that was her purpose. She hardly even helped with the chores or supper, but John praised her daily as if she did.

His only comfort was that, as far as he knew, Mem and John weren’t intimately involved. He was still needed for something, even if that something caused him great pain. But as time went on, it wasn’t enough.

* * *

Present Day

Victor comes home earlier than usual with a bad headache, while Yuuri is out grocery shopping. He paces around the apartment, tangled up with worry. He told a friend about Yuuri and his daughters, and he was met with less-than-enthusiasm. In fact, the way the friend worded things made it seem like Victor was wrong for bringing in the family. _Am I doing something wrong? Is it wrong of me to help him any further? Is it wrong for him to be in this century? But how can I, in good mind, send him back to that hell of the past?_

The front door clicks open, and in marches Lydia, tugging along a grocery bag. She doesn’t notice him at first, which is a good thing. Victor retreats into his bedroom.  His bed is neatly made, despite him leaving it undone this morning. His laundry basket is empty.

_Why are you so good to me?_

It is quiet out there for a while, and after Yuuri’s bedroom door closes, he can only assume that Lydia’s fallen asleep.

Yuuri opens Victor’s door, because he doesn’t know Victor is home. Humming to himself, he opens Victor’s drawer and puts away some laundry. The tune is a traditional English hymn, dated back to the late sixteen hundreds. From the corner of his eye, he sees Yuuri lift a white gown from the basket, and he holds it up to himself in the mirror. It’s the nightgown he wore when he first came to this world. Yuuri continues to hum as he saunters into the hallway. Victor follows. To his great surprise, he finds Yuuri sprawled across his bed, eyes shut. Wearing the nightgown.

Really, it was none of his business, what he did. He may have just been preparing for a nap, he didn’t know for sure. But still, it unsettled him, the possibility of Yuuri thinking of going home…

He tiptoed out into the living room. Perfectly tidied, as always. Dinner was cooking in a crockpot, already smelling good.

Yuuri wasn’t planning on leaving. And it isn’t possible that he’s homesick, is it…?

He walks back into his room and tries to sleep on things. He comes to a conclusion rather quickly. Rolling onto his stomach, he makes a quick Google search and does something entirely on impulse. It might be stupid, but he really thinks Yuuri would love it, and how it would brighten his mood.

That evening, he makes his appearance in the living room, startling Yuuri. Fortunately, he’s not wearing the nightgown anymore and is back to ordinary clothes. “I… I didn’t know you were here…” Yuuri murmurs, head down. He’s afraid that Victor saw him in the outfit.

“Yeah, I’ve been asleep. Will dinner be ready soon?”

“Another ten minutes, I’d say. Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, if it’s the outfit earlier, I- I can explain it all. ‘Tis just that I—”  
“No, no, you’re fine. Sit down?’

Yuuri does so at once, worrying at his bottom lip. He wrings his hands together and keeps his head down. “If- If I’ve done anything wrong, I— I didn’t mean it, whatever it was.”

Victor sits across from him. No sooner than he did, Yuuri stands. “I don’t want to go home, I was just… broody! I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and for my daughters! I shouldn’t have done it, I know I looked ridiculous, but _please_ don’t take me back there! I don’t _want_ —”   
“Yuuri, relax! That isn’t what this is about!”

Yuuri sits, slowly. With his elbows against the table, he rests his head in his hands, face bright red. “I’m sorry.”

“Now look, I don’t care what you decide to wear, it’s none of my business. But what this is really about is spring break. It’s in a month and a half, and I have an urge to get out and travel this year.”

He lifts his head. “Travel? To where? When should we expect your return?”

“Well, I was wondering if you and your daughters would come with me.”

“Come with you…?” He sits straight up now. “Where are you… um, _we_ … going?”

“How would you feel about visiting Japan for a week?”

***

That Saturday, Yuuri and the girls grew tired of being cooped up inside. So Victor, Yuuri and his daughters go walking through downtown Salem. One particular building catches Yuuri's eyes, and he reads the sign outside carefully. “ _Salem Witch Trials…_ muss-mus-e-um?”   
“ _Museum._ It’s a place that usually has a lot of historical artifacts. This one in particular is about the witch trials, haven’t you heard of them?”   
“Well, of course I’ve heard of them, but… why is it so important?”   
“Do you want to go inside?”

Yuuri nods.

Victor imagines the inside might be a little frightening for the girls, but they are particularly astonished at the wax figures, though they do not find the rooms particularly fascinating. To them, these wax figure rooms are like walking into a neighbor’s home. “This woman looks like Grandmother Wilson.” Charity points to one of the figures. “And this one like Goody Marquiss.”  
Yuuri grins. “You’re right, the resemblence is striking.” He turns to Victor. “All of this happened before I was born, before any of the Wilson’s lived in America. But my dear friend tells me it was such a dark time, and from then forward she had to be very careful. It’s strange seeing it almost… celebrated, here.”

When they pass the giftshop, Lydia shouts: “I wanna be a witch, too!” which leaves her sister gasping. “Lydia! You mustn’t say such things! Imagine what Father would do if he heard you now.”

“Father isn’t coming.” She puts a hand on her hip. “He don’t want us anymore.”

“That isn’t true.” Charity replies, her voice strained. “He just doesn’t know where we are! If he did, he’d be disappointed. In _all_ of us.” She spares a glance at her mother.

Victor doesn’t seem to sense the tension in the air between the three. “You know what? I want to be a witch too, Lydia. Let’s get matching hats.”

“Yay!!!”

Yuuri and Charity are left alone in the hallway, Charity’s fists clenched at her sides. Yuuri sits on a nearby bench and encourages her to join him. She shakes her head. “I want to go home.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Home…?”  
“To Salem Village! I- I want to be with you but I don’t like this place at all! I don’t like school, I don’t like the strange devices everyone has, and I don’t like Victor being with you!”

He gasps. “Charity… don’t say such things. Victor is good to us.”  
“He is good, but I do not need another father when mine is still at home! Oh, I ran away, and he must be so worried! I must go back!”

“You _can’t_.” Yuuri says firmly, touching her shoulder. “I’m not losing you again. If one of us goes back, then we all must. But you’ve hardly given it a chance here. You may come to like it yet. As for Victor…” Both turn and look at Victor and Lydia in the giftshop. “Your sister truly adores him, and as do I. He doesn’t have to be your father. But why not let him be your friend, at the very least? It would be the right thing to do, to show a little kindness. Might you do that for me, love?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Take heart, Charity. Everything will be alright, soon enough.”

***

They take the children to the water to stretch out their legs for a while. Lydia loves pretending to be a witch, and, much to her sister’s torment, chases her through the sand while pretending to cast spells on her.

Yuuri smiles at them, relieved that this spot still exists. It isn’t far from where they once lived, and the girls have played here many a pleasant summer day. “Lydia seems to truly love it here,” he muses, not expecting much of a response.

“I wish we could say the same thing about Charity. She seems unhappy.”

“Well, she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe I’ll try.”  
Yuuri scoffs. “Good luck getting that child to spare you so much as a passing glance.”

“Challenge accepted.”

.

Victor sat on a log by the girls. Lydia ran into his arms, but soon she grew bored and ran on. Charity, hesitantly, sat beside him. She stared out at the water. “‘Tis not much different, though the shoreline is changed.”

“That happens over the years.”

“Victor?” She looks at him. “How old _am_ I?”

“You’re seven, of course.”  
“No, no, I know it is the future. So how old would I be?”

He sighed softly. “Truthfully, Charity, you wouldn’t be alive if you stayed in the past. You’d be more than three hundred years old.”

“Three hundred.” She says flatly. “So I am not meant to be here, then. Where am I buried? Did I have lots of children?”

“I… shouldn’t tell you that.”

“You must. I must know if it is my duty to return home.”

He glances back at Yuuri, who isn’t paying attention. “You grew up to be a great lady. You owned a great bit of land. You married a nice, handsome young man.”

“And what about children?”  
“I’m sure you had some.”

“Then… now those children were never born?”

“I suppose.”’

“Oh.” She hugged her knees. “What about Father?”

“He dies an old man, do not worry about him.”

“Does Aunt Mem have her baby?”  
“Yes, a boy.”

“Maybe that boy will make Father feel better about Johnny.”

“Maybe.”

“And… maybe we shall go back, to fulfill our duties. Someday though, not now. For I fear that Mother loves you and it would break his heart should he have to leave you.”

“He loves me?”  
“Aye, very much. But, you are married. Married people are supposed to love one another.” He hasn’t the heart to correct her. “My father never loved him. Aunt Mem told me so.”

“Your mother… is a wonderful person. He deserves to be loved, and he certainly didn’t deserve the treatment that your father gave him.”  
“I know that. T’was wicked of me to think he deserved it.” 

“You didn’t know any better. Listen, Charity, I know back home… you’re expected to be very responsible and take care of things. And you’re very mature for your age. But here, you don’t have to worry and blame yourself so much. I want you to only worry about being a little girl. Let us take care of the rest.”

.

Charity falls asleep on the way home. After Victor’s parked, he thinks he’ll help Lydia inside, but Yuuri already has her hand. Should he wake Charity, or carry her?

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Yuuri calls over his shoulder. “You’ll have to carry her.”

“I’m not sure she’ll like—” But Yuuri was already halfway to the elevator and couldn’t hear him. Sighing, he ever-so-carefully lifted Charity out of her seat. To his surprise, she doesn’t seem to mind and even rests her head on his shoulder. Lydia hugs his leg on the way up the elevator.

Yuuri smiles at the scene, but doesn’t say a word.

.

When the girls have gone to bed that night, Yuuri finds himself drifting to Victor’s room. Victor’s standing in the bathroom, getting ready for bed himself, but the door is open and he knows Yuuri’s there. He climbs into the bed and rests atop the sheets, not entirely sure what he was planning on doing, or what Victor might think of him being there.

Victor wipes his face and tosses the towel into the basket by the door. He turns off the light and slides into bed beside Yuuri, opening his arms for him. Yuuri rests his head on Victor’s chest, hoping Victor couldn’t feel the way his heart pounded. “I… I was thinking..”

“Yeah?”  
“If you’re willing, I think… I…” He has to pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know about you, but I feel… very comfortable with you. More comfortable than I ever did in my marriage. And I like you a lot… I think ‘like’ isn’t strong enough of a word. If you’re willing, I would like to make our relationship go further.”

“How do you mean?”

Yuuri shifts. “Are we even… what was that word you used?”  
“Dating? I don’t know. Do you want us to be?”   
“I would, and more.”

“Hm. Okay. Then we’re dating.”

“And, um… whenever you’re ready, I want to…” The way Yuuri squirms tells him all he needs to know. “I don’t know how long I’ll live. But I do not want John being the only man I’ve ever had intimacy with. I want to replace his memories with yours, someday, if you ever wish to.”

“Are you ready for something like that? You went through a lot of trauma. I wouldn’t want to hurt you…”  
“No, I’m ready. I know I am.” Yuuri’s voice is confident.   
“Then, as you wish.”  


***

“Detective Lee, this one’s for you,” one of the detective's colleagues guides a very old man into his office on Monday morning. 

“Huh?”  _What, do I not look busy enough for you?_

“The guy says somebody’s stolen graves from the historic graveyard.”  
Detective Lee blinks, not following the point of all this. “And? That's more of Detective Stevens' thing."

The colleague nods at the man, who unfolds a piece of paper: a map of the graveyard stating who is buried where, and reads, “The graves belonged to Charity Anne Wilson Moss, wife of Lucas Moss, John Andrew Wilson, and Lydia Jane Wilson.”  
The detective raises his eyebrows above his hairline. “You’re messing with me. Give me their dates of birth.” He unlocks his computer and frantically starts typing. He hasn't looked into the Wilson mystery in some weeks. It's a cold case in some ways, yet new information pops up every now and then, leading him nowhere.

“Uh… October 7th, 1712, April 21st, 1715, May 3rd, 1716…” He lowers the paper. “Their mother is Temperance Wilson, you know, from the well? And their father, John Wilson, his grave is still there, as is his wife Remember and their son Edgar. I don’t get it.”

“I do. Sir, I’m sure you’ve heard about those children found at the bottom of Temperance’s Well?”

“Yeah, a little boy and girl. Awful sad situation." Detective Lee motions for the man to have a seat, and says to him, “Well, the girl identified herself as Charity Wilson. A few weeks ago, we had a little girl named Lydia Wilson found in the woods. In October, some crazy guy was hospitalized, claiming he was Temperance Wilson. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

The old man pales. “Are you telling me that the well is some sort of… time machine to the past? Do you think we could go down and investigate it?”

“Doubtful. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But how can three graves just disappear without a trace? I’m starting to believe it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: b a n g  
> and also we're gonna see what the past folks are up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  
> 1\. Goody was short for Goodwife, kind of like saying Mrs. It's an oldies thing.
> 
> Planning to update twice a week! Look for new chapters on Mondays and Fridays unless I say otherwise.


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